


Finding Out

by Bowtruckled



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American college culture, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, F/M, Hermione Granger never got her letter, Post-Hogwarts, Second Wizarding War, Voldemort still alive, anyarysm, discovering magical world, dumbledore still dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 76,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowtruckled/pseuds/Bowtruckled
Summary: When Hogwarts students make uni a safe house, what can a jaded muggleborn do but befriend Gryffindors and try to find a way to keep a certain Slytherin off her mind- A modern AU where Hermione never got her letter based off this prompt from anyarysm:Hermione Granger had always been odd. Terribly brilliant and scathingly ruthless, her perception of the world had made her the object of schoolyard jests, her peers doling out punishment by virtue of her strangeness, children terrifying in the dangerous manner only children are capable of. And so alone in her room, she made her dolls move by her will. That was years ago.Now all grown up, she becomes, almost obsessively, determined to prove that more than will, magic reinforced her spine. And by God, if there’s a whole different world out there, Hermione will be part of it - even if she has to claw her way in.So when a pretty boy shows up, all sharp lines, and light hair, and the snark of old rich, she is drawn to him and the mark on his arm. He is well-versed in manipulation and the sorcery of the dark, and when he offers her a hand to beckon her come, she takes it."
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 12
Kudos: 62





	1. A Magical Start of Term

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off the prompt in the summary. I found it on tumblr in 2015. I DO NOT OWN THE PROMPT. Credit goes to whoever owns it, if you recognize it, let me know, I'd love to give credit ---> OMG Sept 2020 WE HAVE FOUND THE OWNER OF THE PROMPT PEOPLE. I would like to thank user CarinaJM for finding it and linking it to me! This prompt was created on tumblr in 2015 by ao3 author anyarysm. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE INSPIRATION~~~~
> 
> A disclaimer: I was in my senior year of college in the United States when I started this in 2015. I wrote what I knew, thus even though this story never explicitly states where the uni is, the college culture and experiences are typical of that of an American college. Or at least, typical of my own experiences. If you dislike this aspect, then this is not the story for you.
> 
> My amazing roommate at the time, Jackie, helped me edit the first 18 or so chapters for ffn but I am now editing it again as I decided to pick this story up for AO3. If you would like the original, unedited version it is posted under the same author's name and title on ffn. (I personally think this one is going to be better lol) If you have read both, please let me know if the edits are working for the storyline! 
> 
> Please enjoy!

The campus was overtly crowded, owing to the fact it was new student orientation. A rush of young, ripe minds scattered and chatted with vigor all around. They seemed to be everywhere; pooled in great numbers around the old oaks in the open courtyard, sitting in the sun anxious on the stone fountain. 

There were even new students hanging on the railings that laced the granite steps up to the Roost, a creative name given to the large castle-like structure that held large classrooms and lecture halls. The rest of the academic buildings flowed off the Roost in smaller turrets, making it look more like something out of a fairytale than a university campus. 

But Hermione had more on her mind than annoying new kids thinking university would be all its hyped up to be. She glanced back to the stack of essays she was grading from the summer class she was assisting. They won’t even realize how cracked up this place is until it’s too late, she thought to herself as she studied the scene below her from her office window.

She saw a redheaded girl smiling at her blonde friend without a care about studying, money, or her future. The girl looked normal enough; a small bag sat next to her feet and she stretched out under a large oak tree, her head back into the sun. The blonde was pointing to the other girl’s hair occasionally as if a bug was flying around her ear. 

The more Hermione watched, the more she thought about her past. Everyone down below was already falling into comfortable groups and they’d only been here a day’s time. Hermione had been here 3 years and still struggled. It would be so easy to forget the feeling of never belonging, if only she could feel like she belonged anywhere. 

Hermione was mistaken into thinking university schooling might be a little better than the disgusting experiences of high school. She had never fit in, too clever for the likings of even her more intelligent classmates growing up. And then it started to bother her teachers too. 

She grew a thick skin quick and with it came a temper to match. Her parents couldn’t understand why she couldn’t let go of her desperate need to be somewhere else, to experience something different and new and better. Because they didn’t understand. They didn’t believe her. There was something magical inside her. And it just wouldn’t leave her alone. 

The first time was in first grade, when a stout, spoilt boy called Dudley had made her cry by pulling her braid and calling her stupid. She had hid behind the slide on the playground and wished and wished and wished that he would just be quiet. He was always so mean. 

All of sudden she heard his loud whiny voice stop short. When she looked around the side of the slide, he was clutching his face, flushed red and huge, his throat swollen shut. He couldn’t force his mouth open no matter what he did. 

Hermione watched in awe as he waved his hands wildly again and again. His friends did nothing as he cried. He ran to the teacher. He didn’t come back for a long time, Hermione remembered, and no one seemed to tell the story the same after he got back. She wondered if anyone knew it was her. 

That night, lying in bed Hermione couldn’t sleep; she sat up determined to understand what had happened. She decided to test out her power. She sat her cat in front of her and stared and stared at it; it was late and cold, but she didn’t care. 

She sat up anyway and willed her mind further. Hermione’s fingertips began to tingle as the cat changed color slowly before her eyes. She fell asleep smiling that night, the cat curled at her feet and the residual magic gently flowing out of her and into her dreams. 

In the morning, her mother questioned her about the color. When Hermione tried to explain her mother didn’t understand; it didn’t make sense that her daughter could think something into changing color. It wasn’t natural, remarkable yes, but definitely not natural. And so the logical explanation had been that a stray replaced their family cat sometime in the night. 

They didn’t speak of it again and that night Hermione changed the cat back to its original color. She learned then that her secret was not something all people believed in and her parents definitely did not understand. It was not something they had learned from young like her, so it was not easy to accept. 

So Hermione learned to hide her magic, a secret saved for when she was alone. By high school, Hermione realized no one would believe her anyway, so why tell anyone? She still hadn’t managed to fit in and showing off some crazy magical powers would just make things worse. 

Being a straight A student was rewarding, but didn’t make her any friends. And because of that she became a bit of a rebel, getting in with some less than A plus students. They didn’t judge her like everyone else; they didn’t find her AS odd as everyone else. So she liked them enough as a distraction. 

But sometimes, even they weren’t enough. And when the magic and the secrets were just too much, she’d go off alone in the woods and let the magic run free. It was fun to do things like that, and, in those moments she really felt alive. But there was no one that could relate. No one knew the truth, and that hurt. 

Upon graduation she decided to go far away, in hopes of expanding her learning and in finding some semblance of a magical world she thought was hidden out there somewhere. But uni had proved a bit of a bust on the magical end. Now, entering her 3rd year, Hermione was jaded. Only a small part of her was left that thought she would ever find some magic in the world. Disappointed but accepting her reality, she did what she could to make it go away. 

She drank and partied and had more than a couple hook ups. And maybe she did sleep with that professor, but he was only eight years older, that’s not bad right, or was it nine? She didn’t remember; she just knew she had done a few things to try and forget. Why not be reckless and attempt to find something in this world to make her feel alive? 

Usually those nights and adventures felt pretty damn close, she was almost an optimist. But sometimes at the end of the night, lying in bed with alcohol mixing her thoughts, she could feel the spark under her skin. She knew the magic was still there, almost eager to get out in its subtleness. It wouldn’t be forgotten despite all she tried to do.

Hermione had let her thoughts wander for too long as she sat in the window. Someone yelled across the yard and it pulled her back to the present. She shook her head to try and clear her mind of the past. It wasn’t a fun place for her to stay in. 

She turned back to the yard and saw the two girls again. The blonde was smiling and waving her hands over her head in a rhythmic fashion as she twirled in a circle. It would have looked odd on any other girl if the one in question wasn’t wearing multi-colored paper glasses and bright plum earrings. 

What an interesting girl, Hermione thought. Suddenly the red head, who had just now realized what her friend was doing, jumped to her feet. Her bag snagged on her leg as she pulled the other girl towards her, embarrassed. They talked, their heads close together and then they parted. The blonde was still smiling. 

Curious, Hermione watched as the redhead shook her head and turned away. The girl noticed her bag then, lying ripped at the seam by a gnarled tree root. She cursed as she crouched down and examined it. It was poor luck.

But then something strange happened. The redhead looked around curiously and, seeing no one was around, took out a thin piece of wood. Hermione leaned closer to the window. The girl flicked it over the bag and in seconds the rip had repaired and the books had stacked themselves back inside. Hermione stared wide eyed. The wand was gone as fast as the redhead had taken it out and the whole ordeal took less than a few seconds. 

Hermione’s heart jumped to her throat, her features reflecting her disbelief. The redhead got up then, grabbed her bag like nothing was out of the ordinary. The blonde followed lazily and they went to check in with a group of students nearby. Several eyed the blonde in her strange glasses and smirked. 

But then, so many people started to move. The tours were beginning and Hermione lost track of the girls. They disappeared too quickly, engulfed in the sea of students. Hermione desperately scanned the crowd for them, but it was futile. They were gone. 

She sat down on the window sill, resting her head against the glass. Take a deep breath, maybe you saw it wrong, she thought, closing her eyes. This was the first time in a while that anything out of the ordinary had happened. That small bit of hope that Hermione constantly buried inside her was clawing its way up to the surface, freshly rejuvenated. Hermione could feel her pulse quicken. 

She looked at the crowd again, desperately hoping the girls would reappear. As she searched, she couldn’t find any glimpse of red hair. Hermione scanned the steps and the path to the fountain in front of her, but she came up with nothing.

She tried to push it out of her mind. It was nothing more than a subtle movement that she had missed, she concluded. The bag hadn’t actually been ripped. That was the logical answer. Logic was after all one of her strengths.

Hermione continued to look at the pooling students. There’s got to be something to keep my mind off all this magic nonsense… look at all these young new students, they look like children, I don’t remember looking so young- she stopped mid thought. 

Hermione thought she spied the blonde girl as a flash of white shone in the sun. But it wasn’t her; her mouth dropped instead. A young man was perched on the last railing of the stairs. He leaned against it half engulfed in shadow from the nearby building and half blinding in the sunlight. 

His white blonde hair was lighter than the girl’s had been. It was a shade Hermione had never seen in real life, a brilliant color like fresh frost on grass. It fell in a long, swooping wave down his forehead, just hitting the edge of a pair of dark sunglasses. 

His jaw was strong, his face angular in a handsome way. His posture leaked arrogance, the bored look to his mouth showed his annoyance at the surrounding crowds. Hermione noticed his jeans clung to his muscles in a strained way and his black button up was oddly rolled up on only one side. The last thing Hermione saw was what looked like a cigarette in his hand. She frowned at it, but she couldn’t seem to pull her eyes away. 

He looked around lazily, but then, as if he felt Hermione watching, he glanced up at the window. Hermione froze. He pulled his sunglasses down ever so slowly to reveal brilliant gray eyes. 

Hermione flinched and backed away from the window. Fuck. Her mind raced, wondering if he saw her. She took a couple deep breaths and reminded herself he was just a boy. A very handsome one at that, even if he did smoke. Would it kill her to make her presence known to him? 

She chanced another glance and she saw his eyes lingering on her. The smallest smirk lifted his bored mouth up before he turned back to the crowd in front of him. Her pulse quickened through her veins. Shit, she thought, putting a hand to her forehead. 

He was mesmerizing in a way that attractive men can be, but there was something else about him too. Whether it was how his attitude oozed out of him or his almost unnatural hair color, she felt like he had plenty of secrets. He was just so peculiar and that little smirk was something else. 

But was it worth it to get to know him? she had to consider, thinking about all the bad boys she had pursued before. Attractiveness only got you so far when your personality turned out to be shit. And while she didn’t know this man yet, she wasn’t sure it was smart of her to find out what that personality and those secrets were. She could just end up hurt again. 

She frowned. He had moved, his frame graceful with the cigarette now discarded. He ran his hand through his hair and it was completely intoxicating. Hermione had no idea why. She couldn’t stop watching; he just drew her in like a spectacular firework show or a crazy car crash. It was practically annoying. 

She scoffed out loud her frustration, feeling as if he had personally done something to her in making her mind go crazy like this. She knew she had nothing to prove but the feeling remained anyway. She could feel her magic start to move under her skin as she clutched the window sill. 

The young man had his arms across his chest now, that one sleeve still rolled up. Another young man with dark skin and high cheekbones walked up to him and gestured for him to follow. The boys walked away from the crowds. It wasn’t long before they disappeared behind a building and Hermione lost sight of them completely. 

She sighed heavily and decided it was as good a time as any to get back to work. She looked miserably at the stack of essays still waiting for her red pen. She tried to push both her magic and the thoughts of the white blonde man out as she sat and pulled the pile in front of her. 

An hour later, she headed out and made her way to the bus stop. Outside the coffee house on the west side of campus, all she could think about was past lovers, incorrect semicolons, and missed chances. She grabbed a coffee before heading on the next bus to her apartment downtown. The whole ride, she stared out the window trying not to think about sunglasses and subtle smirks. 

…

Hermione lived alone in a corner apartment building, all brick on the fifth floor. She lived across the hall from her friend Erin, a snarky girl that was decent most of the time. Hermione had met last year in a film class. They liked each other more than they’d admit, probably because it gave them both a sense that they belonged. Erin had made off handed comments a few times about her stressful high school life as well. 

When she got to her door, Hermione saw Erin’s scrawled note across the white board: “Getting fucked up tonight or what?” which meant Erin was inviting friends over later. Hermione chuckled to herself as she walked in and headed for the shower. She liked Erin’s friends well enough. She might as well find a decent outfit ahead of time, even if her original plan was to stay in and finish grading. Erin would force her to go out anyway. 

Erin had just broken up with her girlfriend from the summer and that meant she was in one of her moods where she was desperate for anything with a sex drive. But she always wound up back with another girl; always beautiful and kind. It was hard to believe Erin was always getting broken up with to begin with.

But Erin was happy with her lifestyle and that suited Hermione just fine. Hermione wondered what party they’d be headed to tonight. The soccer team had a new goalie, she only knew because Erin had called her to tell her when she’d spotted him moving his stuff into the apartment below them. Maybe they’d head over there. 

He was from Germany and Erin wouldn’t stop talking about his accent. Hermione stood in her closet, still wet from her shower, looking at outfits. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a dashing foreigner asking her if she wanted another drink. She managed to find a pair of black cut off jean shorts and a dark red top cropped at the waist. Perfect. 

It wasn’t her favorite color but it looked great on her. She picked out some boots and placed them at the end of her bed before looking at herself in her full length mirror. I need to fix this, she said to herself, staring at some dark circles under her eyes. She was just finishing her makeup to her liking when Erin popped her head in the door frame. Her short black hair was still wet.

“Hey, who you trying to get tonight? Damn girl,” she chuckled as she admired Hermione in the mirror.

“Um, no one unless you do your thing on this mess I call hair,” Hermione stated as she pointed to her head. It wasn’t that her hair was ugly, but it had the tendency of getting away from Hermione’s control; frizzy and big if she let it go too long without brush or attention. 

And that happened sort of frequently with Hermione; she was lazy in that aspect. A lot of times she just twisted it up in a bun, the curls trying desperately to break loose. Erin had become a master at taming the wild frizz, making Hermione’s curls look soft and hang straight. It was a bit of a process but Erin never said no.

“You really need to learn how on your own,” Erin said while taking a few strands in her hands. Hermione laughed, wondering in the back of her mind if magic could be a possible solution to that. But she didn’t know if she trusted her own hand to try. 

After the hair taming, Hermione helped Erin find a suitable outfit. Then she went back out into the living room to pour herself some wine from the huge box Erin had placed on the counter. It was nearly 8 o'clock and people would be arriving soon. Hermione mentally prepared herself for socializing. 

Hermione sipped on her wine as she flipped through CDs of music to put on. Erin waltzed around the living room, staring out the huge front windows at the people walking around below. Hermione started some music and began to move along to it, ready to begin the night.

…

Hermione looked around the room, a buzz playing nicely with the bass heavy music that seemed to shake the house. They had gone up town to a lazy street that had many student houses on it. They were all big with odd angled rooms that landlords made from basic floor plans. 

Hermione sipped from a cup full of liquor, the taste sweet but strong in her mouth. It was a welcome feeling, to be tipsy and carefree with a bunch of others, before all the hardship of school life began to pick up. It was one of those times where she felt she belonged and she was happy Erin invited her out tonight. 

Today was eventful in the sense that too much peculiar stuff had happened. What with the red headed girl’s magically mended bag or that intriguing young man with the blonde fringe, she just hadn’t felt right the rest of the day. She had even accidentally done magic without realizing as she was reading on the couch waiting for Erin to do her hair. The tip of the piece of hair she was twirling in her fingers had started to turn blue. She needed to relax more than she thought. 

But now, amongst friends with the warmth of alcohol filling her veins, she felt the stress melt away. Hermione and the other girls had made their way to the first house on the street, where the music was loud and people poured out onto the balconies above. They headed for drinks and proceeded to feel out the territory they had just set foot in. Hermione scanned the crowd for any familiar faces.

The room was dark, lit only with strings of small lights. They roped and curled around the banister of a great staircase in the center of the room and down the windows all around the rooms. It created an interesting glow, perfect for drunken mingling. 

Hermione perched herself onto the top of a table by the stairs. It gave a good view of the balcony and the floor of dancers in front of her. Erin and another girl named Christine started dancing. They looked kind of adorable and kind of funny, Hermione thought, admiring the boldness of her friends. 

She wasn't against making a fool out of herself, at least if she was having fun, but she definitely needed a little more liquid encouragement. She sipped generously on her cup again and gazed around the room. That was the fun of parties for Hermione, it gave her ample time to watch people. She learned so many interesting things from doing so.

After a little while, Erin got her attention again. Her face was eager as she pointed up the staircase to a tall boy with a small ponytail. It was one of the boys from the soccer team, she knew because he had taken her summer class. Hermione waved at him and he smiled back. 

Erin was beyond excited. “Do you think the new guy’s here too? I would actually die!” she yelled over the noise of the music, getting up on her tip-toes to look around the crowd a little better.

Hermione looked around excitedly, scanning the crowd for the tall, foreign boy she had only seen in photographs. A rambunctious couple of girls ran by then, knocking Hermione off balance. She went tumbling into the nearest body on the stairs, her cup cascading down. A hand closed around her wrist to pull her away from them and she wobbled on her feet. 

When she regained her footing, Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. A head of white blonde hair gave way to a face of sharp lines, anger evident in the cold stare he gave back. Hermione was speechless as she looked down; his shoes were covered in punch. 

She had not expected to see him again, let alone here. He was almost more handsome than she remembered, despite his current look of hatred for her. His grey eyes felt like steel. Her eyes followed up to arms, where his fists were clenched. The phantom feeling of his hand on her wrist lingered with the mix of her magic. 

She ignored it and tried a smile. “I’m so sorry, really,” Hermione stumbled on her words. She usually had no problem standing up for herself, but she was so taken aback by his blatant fury. 

“Don’t even,” he said, his voice clipped. He held up a hand. He looked much less standoffish earlier today but she guessed she was right about his personality now. Erin eyed him interestedly. Hermione frowned. 

His voice was sharp. “Get the hell out of my way,” he eyed Hermione viciously before turning for the stairs. But they were congested and that seemed to fuel his annoyance even more. “Fucking move!” he barked, loud enough to be heard over the music and people quickly got out of his way. 

“I said I was sorry! It was an accident!” Hermione called, but he had already vanished. Hermione wasn’t the only one staring at his wake. Two girls actually got up and followed him, their eyes sparked with interest of a different kind. Hermione hoped they knew what they were doing. 

She sat back down not talking for some time, pondering the arrogant boy that had just left her presence. Erin noticed and sat down beside her. “Who was that?” She handed Hermione a new glass and Hermione gulped a large portion of it right then and there. 

“A man whining over nothing,” Hermione huffed loudly. It still irked her that such a lovely face could be such a jerk. “We may have noticed each other this afternoon on campus, but… he’s now proven my original thought.” 

Erin was craning her neck to catch a glimpse of him. “What, that you should totally sleep with him? Because I second that,” Erin winked. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Maybe just apologize one more time. He could lighten up and then who knows.” 

Hermione pouted. “No, my original thought was that he wouldn’t be any good for me. An arse like all the others. Now he’s proven that.” 

Erin just laughed. “Come on, let’s dance off the bad thoughts then.” She pulled Hermione by the arm to where Christine and another, short girl named Therese were dancing.

“Or maybe make enough bad thoughts that it will make you act on them,” Erin winked at her again. Hermione swatted her arm. 

The alcohol was starting to take effect and soon Hermione was dancing. She decided she just had to forget what happened and let herself go or she would go crazy. Hermione was laughing and dancing in no time, the lights making everything look brilliant and pretty. 

After five or six songs they were all parched and warm, so Hermione grabbed everyone’s empty cups and ran off to refill them. When she got to the line she took a deep breath and looked around. SHe noticed several boys chanting. One of them in the group was chugging from a cup. 

What a riot, she thought to herself giggling. She turned back to the line as three girls in front of her approached the container of punch. They struggled to work the stopper, spilling the punch all over the floor. They didn’t appear to be the brightest girls in the room, especially with how drunk they already seemed. They were taking forever and Hermione’s patience was quickly running out.

To her dismay, a boy saw the sight and decided to help them out. He was also quite dim witted and spent a great deal of time chatting the girls up before actually attempting to help. They were now all blocking her way and still attempting to use the stopper; it was quite ridiculous.

Suddenly, something brushed her arm and Hermione turned. Looking over her shoulder she saw a girl being teased by a boy while they danced, no idea they were continuously grazing Hermione with their stupid excuse for dancing. Her short string of a temper was being pulled shorter. 

She was about to tell the girls off in all her irritation when the dancing couple lost their balance. The boy let go of the girl and she came crashing, very ungracefully, into Hermione. The boy darted after her, stumbling all the while.

Hermione was sent sideways in seconds. Her only thoughts were how disgusting the floors were and how she did not want to end up on them. Attempting to regain her own balance, she grabbed the closest thing to her and came crashing to the floor in a heap. 

However, the closest thing to her happened to be two young men who had been chatting nearby. And now it was evident that Hermione had toppled onto them, taking them to the ground with her. She found herself astride one’s lap, her arms sprawled across the other’s chest. 

As she pushed up on his strong frame, she looked upon a handsome face that was smiling back at her. Well, this could work in my favor… She blushed and turned away; he was quite attractive, his brown skin made his dark eyes appear even warmer. Maybe her luck was beginning to turn around tonight.

“Well, this is quite unexpected, but I’m not complaining,” the boy chuckled to her. She was about to respond, but the other man was not as kind. 

“Ugh! Get off!” She felt a harsh shove on her lower half and immediately sat up. The voice was harsh and familiar. 

“I said get off!” he yelled and that’s when she registered what, or who, exactly was behind her and why the boy with the nice dark eyes had looked so familiar. Her lower half just so happened to be draped over the lap of a very disgruntled blonde who, for the second time that night, eyed Hermione with a look of aggravation when he saw her. 

“Bloody fucking hell,” he said, his gray eyes leering. Hermione frowned and bit her lip. She usually wasn’t scared easily, but he was by far the most intimidating person her age that she had met in a long time. And she hated herself for feeling that way. 

“Oh calm down, we’re all in the same boat here! No need to be so fucking pushy-” she started, but he cut her off. 

“You really should think twice about the ones that just throw themselves at you Blaise,” an evil smile came to his lips as he looked at Hermione. Her mouth dropped open. 

Her eyes narrowed in his direction. “And what, may I ask, is that supposed to mean? You don’t even know me. How can you make judgments just like that?” she said bitterly. 

He turned away instead of responding, brushing his black jeans off and making extra care to pull down on his left sleeve which was still rolled in that ridiculous fashion. She caught a glimpse of a line of tattoo ink before he pulled it all the way down. 

Hermione was curious but she didn’t have time to think about it further as she realized she was now directly in the arms of the other boy. “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-“ she began sheepishly, their faces very close. 

“Quite incidental really,” the boy said and he smiled again as he helped them both up. “Are you alright? As for my friend well, I can’t say I’m surprised with his reaction but, nonetheless I apologize for him, he’s a little... um, distracted.” 

She looked over at the blonde, anger rising up in her stomach. It wasn’t her fault he was “distracted.” Whatever the hell that meant. Her facial expression must have reflected her thoughts, as Blaise chimed in again.

“Um, are you sure you’re alright? Has his attitude really made you as angry as that look on your face says you are because if so, I wouldn’t want to be him,” the boy called Blaise laughed and Hermione was taken aback. 

She hadn’t realized she was staring with such viciousness and she immediately sighed. Her emotions were all over the place today and it seemed they wouldn’t stop unless she showed more self-control. And she had to, lest some unexpected magic came from it. 

“Yes, I’m alright. Thank you, really, for your kindness. I truly didn’t mean to, someone pushed me, it was an accident,” she stated the last part loudly, directing it to the other man who was still sulking nearby. 

He was ignoring her completely, busy looking at the girls who had been trying to get to the punch. They were now fishing their cups inside, the lid long discarded; it was a strange sight and his wrinkled brow definitely said so. Regardless, she’d hoped he heard her. 

“No problem, really. I’m Blaise, by the way,” the man next to her held out his hand. She took it and smiled.

“I’m Hermione,” she said, trying to ignore the brooding blonde next to him. But his grey eyes flashed at her again and her magic flared in her fingertips. She froze, trying to will her magic back. 

She tried to focus on the girls in front of her, still fishing for drinks. Blaise chuckled lightly as he watched. “Not the approach I would have gone with, but I guess it gets the job done.” 

“And you wonder why I bring my own liquor,” the blonde stated, a flask in hand. He brought it to his lips and took a long gulp. Hermione wondered what it was and how pretentious you had to be not to want free booze. When he turned back to Blaise, he blinked in annoyance as if he hadn’t expected Hermione to still be there. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at him but took a deep breath. I need to just- calm down. Blaise eyed her with interest. “I can help you with those if you’d like,” he took the cups out of her hand.

“Thanks,” she said and she followed Blaise over to the punch as the girls were finally walking away. The other man watched them like he was observing a rotting dissection.

“So chivalrous Blaise, your father would be proud,” the blonde laughed bitterly. “Or would he, given the company?” Hermione frowned, wary of the meaning behind his words. 

Blaise glared. “Just lay off Draco.” 

“What is your problem?” Hermione asked then, turning to him. 

“Oh many things,” Draco sneered. “But at the moment, you.” 

Hermione raised an eyebrow, daring to challenge him. “I can’t tell if you actually just hate me for no reason or jealousy has turned you bitter.” Blaise smirked as he handed her the filled cups. 

She thanked Blaise sweetly and Malfoy gave a short laugh. “Keep dreaming darling, I wouldn’t stoop so low. You are not my type and you never will be, you clumsy bint. Now run off to your slutty little friends, I’m sure they’re waiting for their alcohol,” his voice was filled with spite.

Hermione could feel her teeth clenching. She wanted to retort but Blaise stopped her. “Malfoy,” Blaise warned, his jaw square as he stepped between Hermione and his friend. 

“She started it,” Malfoy sneered, “I’m just ending it,” he pulled Blaise by the arm and dragged him away. Hermione could still hear Malfoy drawling, “I can’t help it that all these women just love to rile me up.” Blaise was shaking his head. 

Malfoy called to Hermione over his shoulder. “Oh and Blaise can be just as awful as me, if only you knew,” his voice was dripping with malice. Blaise smacked Draco on the arm and looked back at Hermione with an apologetic smile. In seconds they disappeared into the crowd. 

Hermione sighed. So much for seeing where the night could go with Blaise. The whole walk back to Erin and the girls, she questioned whether Malfoy was telling the truth about Blaise or if it was all just part of some show. 

She passed around the drinks, the irritation still lingering. She didn’t know why Malfoy’s words bothered her so much. She had certainly encountered men like him before and she hadn’t given them the time of day. But he was putting on some kind of front, whether he did it all the time or tonight was a special occasion she didn’t know. And she wouldn’t have realized if it hadn’t been for his eyes. They were flashing and brilliant and so… so… what was it about them? 

His eyes were so guarded. He could be thinking a million different things and his eyes would stay that mesmerizing grey. Just enough to keep you hopeful before he put you down. It was infuriating how he could be rude to her one minute and then casual with Blaise the next. Why was his personality so split? What kind of act was he putting on and why? 

Ten minutes later when she still looked miserable, Erin finally got the story out of her. Upon hearing the whole of it, Erin just grinned. “Hermione, most guys here are begging for a shag. He probably just hasn’t gotten laid in a while. You could fix that you know,” Erin sang, laughing too hard at her own words and spitting out the gulp she had just taken. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Erin. “No, I’m positive that would not help one bit,” she stated, wishing she hadn’t brought it up in the first place. Now her mind was split between wondering about Malfoy’s crooked personality and thinking about how he might be in bed. She shoved the thoughts aside, embarrassed. 

“Well, if we see him again you can just settle it with that charming wit of yours, I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Erin stated simply and went to take another sip. “Or just get with his friend, that would work too.” 

Erin winked and started dancing. Hermione gave a weak smile, shaking her head. It wasn’t the worst proposition, but she wasn’t sure it would make things better either. Especially if she had been right about Malfoy being jealous. And especially if Malfoy was telling the truth about Blaise.

Hermione sighed as she looked around the room again, trying to ease her mind. She watched as a young man approached a girl who, at first, did not appear to be interested. She frowned at her friends but when the man came near she gave him a warm smile. She talked to him for a minute or so, twirling her hair and leaning in close. 

But when he left, her bubbly personality fell. She turned back to her friends with a disgusted face and they proceeded to whisper furiously. It was quite the act if ever she saw one, Hermione reasoned. 

Malfoy knew how to put on an act, Hermione considered then. Just like the girl did. Hermione listened to the music change to a new song, considering what she would do if she saw Malfoy again. She watched more bodies move about as the lights around the room reminded her of his grey eyes. 

What kind of secrets was he hiding and how could she use them to her advantage?


	2. Drunk and Desructive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Hermione runs into some unexpected guests while trying to enjoy her first night back at school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took ages to edit this chapter but I wanted to make it more realistic and well, that proved very difficult. Let me know if you like it.

It was midnight but the air was warm on Hermione’s skin. She walked in the street with the girls, laughing and stumbling to their next destination. The subject of the stupid blonde and his nice friend had not come up for some time and Hermione was happy, albeit a bit drunk. 

Up ahead was a house with a fence around it and a large front porch; a few people were hanging out on it and a heavy bass was coming from within the large, open front door. People around them were making their way toward it. Erin pointed and Hermione followed. 

“What if we see him again Hermione? Ah, what will you do?” her voice echoed loudly down the street as she walked down the sidewalk to the gate. 

Hermione hadn’t been paying attention but she heard her name and turned around. She smiled and looked at Erin. “What are you on about?” 

“That git from before!” Erin said then and Hermione frowned. Her thoughts drifted slowly back to the man that had finally vacated her mind an hour ago. 

His brooding good-looks would almost be admirable if they weren’t marked with so much arrogance. And it was the arrogance that had gotten to her. The minute he opened that sharp jaw of his, it was full of hate. What with the demeaning insults and that devilish smirk, Hermione could feel her edginess rise. And yet, here she was, still thinking about him and those damn grey eyes. Shit. 

“So this black lunged blonde just keeps insulting you out of nowhere? I can’t believe him, we must do something,” Erin was saying as she climbed the stairs of the porch. A young man stood by the door wearing a tank top and a goofy grin. He watched them approach and his smile got bigger. 

“Technically it wasn’t out of nowhere, I did stain his shoes,” Hermione pointed out, recalling the details again. Erin laughed. 

“She has that part correct,” a cool voice said from beside them. Hermione froze.

She followed the sound of his voice to the railing at the far corner of the porch. There Malfoy was, leaning back with that stupid smirk hanging on his mouth. It was broken only by what looked like a homemade cigarette neatly balanced on his lips. The smell of marjiuana filled the air. 

“I really dislike being talked about when I’m right here,” he stated, removing the joint and crossing an arm. 

He eyed Erin almost familiarly. “And my lungs are by far the least black and tarnished thing about me.” She looked so much like Pansy. 

Erin raised her eyebrows, looking from Malfoy to Hermione and back again. Her giddiness was palpable. Hermione crossed her arms. “Is that supposed to be intimidating? because it isn’t,” she couldn’t hide the irritation in her voice. 

Malfoy frowned. “What, no witty remarks this time? And I was starting to look forward to all the arguing,” he mused with a sardonic smile. Hermione rolled her eyes. She wondered if the majiuana was the cause of his sudden snarkiness. 

“Malfoy, why don’t you just leave her alone?” Blaise sighed as he came through the doorway. He fell into place beside Erin. She looked him up and down interestedly, in much the same way Malfoy had done to her. He stood tall and irritation marked his features. 

“What? And deny myself the simple pleasures in life? I don’t think so,” Malfoy laughed, taking another drag. He held in the smoke for quite some time. Hermione tried not to stare at the way his mouth moved when he exhaled.

“So you admit you enjoy speaking down to others for no real, rational reason?” She could feel the alcohol buzzing in her system and she was starting not to care what she said to him. The whole matter of this little game he was playing was getting ridiculous. 

“I never pretended to be a saint darling,” he mused as he stood. “Just like you never pretended to be worthy of my time besides a good verbal assault.” He brushed past her, knocking her backwards with his shoulder.   
Hermione would have been furious if it hadn’t been for the spark of magic she felt rush between them at his touch. She tried to cover her panic; had he felt that at all? What if he got mad over that too? How would she explain it?   
He looked to Blaise, “Simple pleasures, see?” he laughed. Hermione let out a huff of air. She was in the clear. 

“Now you sound like your father,” Blaise said casually and the amusement on Malfoy’s face abruptly fell away. Hermione felt the whole atmosphere change suddenly. Malfoy’s anger began to pour off him. It sent a shiver down her spine. 

Hermione watched as the tension marked up his features. He exhaled dark smoke and then crushed the end of the joint easily between two long fingers. When the smoke cleared, his grey eyes shone the exact same color; he looked eerie with the whites of his eyes tinged red. 

Clearly this wasn’t a topic he was fond of. It was risky, but Hermione knew it was now or never. She smirked at him. “Didn’t peg you as the type to have daddy issues.” Malfoy shot her a vicious look. 

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low. 

“Oh, fragile little ego we have,” Hermione laughed, cocking her head to the side in a mocking sort of way. 

“Shut it you little bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. “My ego is not fragile by any means. I am intelligent, persuasive, and charming enough to win over every individual I talk to. And I mean every. Even you, if I gave any effort whatsoever… I haven’t,” he narrowed his eyes at her. 

“You see, it’s not you personally I don’t like, it is people like you who think you are worthy of everyone’s time. Which is why you get so angry when I treat you so dismissively. You strut around in your skimpy outfits and smile your courtesies, pretending like what you have to offer is what people should care about. When in reality, you and your life are painfully lackluster.” 

There were several other people now approaching the porch and they were starting to stare. “Alright Drake, this is my fault. I’m sorry, let’s go,” Blaise stated firmly, walking over and grabbing Malfoy by the arm. Blaise gave Hermione another apologetic look. 

In his inebriated state, Malfoy didn’t protest. His smile twisted dangerously as Blaise pulled him down the stairs and back to the sidewalk. The man in the tank top by the door looked on nervously. Erin watched amused.

Malfoy stared at Hermione with red and grey eyes. She stared back, unfazed. “You know, normally when people are as uptight as you, wrapped up in their own self worth, I suggest they remove the stick up their arse.” Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. A couple people who passed on the stairs snickered. 

“But it looks like your shitty personality is already shoved so far up that your messed up idea of superiority just blows around in that too big head of yours all the time. How terribly sad,” she mused. “I never claimed I was worthy of everyone’s time… that would be you.” Erin gaped at her. Blaise was still holding Malfoy back. 

Hermione watched as Malfoy clenched his fists. “Is that really what you’re on about, my shitty personality?” he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Well news flash darling, I already am quite aware of it. But it has no effect on my worth in this world, the status my name carries alone is proof.”

Draco’s eyes flashed at her. “But please, feel free to get back to me when you finally can comprehend that there’s shitty people of power all over the place in this world and your pretty face will only get you so far.” His words were bitter and biting.

Hermione gave a short laugh. “Your looks don’t work on everyone either Malfoy,” she spoke his name like it was poison in her mouth. “I know quite a lot about just how shitty this world is. But you don’t even know me so how can you pass judgement as to whether I know that or not?”

“Get with the program, times have changed; you don’t go shitting on women just to feel like a man. Go fuel that unbalanced ego of yours somewhere else. Besides, an ego like that is probably compensating for something else anyway…” she eyed Malfoy’s belt when she said this. She knew it was a low blow, but she didn’t care. 

Erin stifled her laughter as they watched Malfoy pull at his arm. Blaise seemed to effortlessly hold him now and he couldn’t manage to break away. Draco stood without saying a word, his jaw so tight it could crack. “You bitch,” he managed, his voice dark.

And with that, Hermione smiled, then turned and headed straight into the house. Her curls bounced behind her as she disappeared into the darkness. Erin gave Blaise and Malfoy one last look before following Hermione, practically cackling. 

…

Blaise had pulled Draco along down the sidewalk for twenty minutes before Draco finally spoke. His voice came out a growl. “Will you let go of me now?” 

“Depends,” Blaise asked nonchalantly. “Are you going to turn around and hex her into next week?” 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Draco’s voice was biting. 

“Crass,” Blaise said flatly.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t serious. You already took my wand long before we headed out and I am in no state for wandless or I would have already vacated from you. Although, I don’t understand how you’ve managed to stop me this long. Am I really that drunk?” 

“Sticking charm,” Blaise smiled as he looked around. Seeing that they were alone, he pulled out his wand and unstuck his hand from Draco’s bicep. Draco shrugged his arm back to his side, moving it as if he had been injured.

They continued to walk and Draco took out another joint from his pocket. He lit it with magic and as he exhaled the thick smoke said, “what a fucking mudblood bitch.” 

“You know, I think she kind of likes you,” Blaise said.

Draco made a punch at Blaise, who dodged it easily. Blaise put his hands up in defense. “Hey now, it was just a joke.” 

“Just like mentioning my father was?” Draco sneered.

Blaise frowned. “I am sorry about that. But you have to admit, sometimes you get carried away and your past hasn’t completely left you. I know it’s hard, but you need to be called out, look where we are,” he gestured to the muggle city surrounding them. 

“You just want to fuck her Blaise, don’t try and deny it,” Draco said, looking unamused and ignoring the personal comments Blaise directed at him. 

“And you don’t?” Blaise asked bluntly, looking at Draco with one eyebrow raised. “She was beyond charming when I talked to her and I saw you eying her legs in those shorts.” Draco scoffed.

Blaise continued, “you know, you might actually get along well with a muggle girl if you at least tried.” 

Draco let his eyes wander to the black sky above. His mind was still buzzing with his irritation for the girl. “That is by far the worst suggestion you've ever given. I don’t ever plan on getting in bed with a muggle and she was the worst of them, a right know-it-all bitch.” 

“It’s not exactly like you’re Mr. Humble,” Blaise snickered, “And I recall you told her you liked arguing with her.” 

“So what,” Draco murmured, taking another hit. There were no constellations visible because of all the ambient light; he turned back to look at the street in front of them. 

“So, any girl that can take your shit like that and spit it right back is worth at least a consideration. I haven’t seen you that mad in a long time,” he chuckled. 

“Very funny Blaise,” Draco flicked some ash at him. “I might have agreed to come here for my mother’s sake, but I’m still not sold on all these muggles. They can party, I’ll give you that,” he nodded to a house as they passed. Music was floating down onto the sidewalk and the whole house was lit up. Cups and empty beer cans littered the front lawn.

“And they might, by some miniscule excuse, be attractive,” he pushed the image of her legs out of his mind. “But then I remember they’re muggles and it’s like all the acid boils in my stomach. I’d rather fuck a blast-ended skrewt or that little Weasley girl, and that is saying something.” 

“Come on now, they’re not that bad! Geez mate,” Blaise stared at Draco, incredulous. “You can’t really be that prejudiced. We’ve been friends a long time now; you can’t tell me all that blood purity bullshit actually stuck on you?” 

Draco looked back up at the sky. It took him some time before he responded. “You’ve met my father, it’s not like I’m a manipulative git by coincidence Blaise,” he said quietly. 

“As a child I didn’t know any better, you get that. And yes a lot of the stuff I was taught was bullshit. I found that out through my mother’s own dissension,” he sighed. 

“But I guess I never knew anything besides my own superiority because that’s all I was ever taught, it’s what they wanted. It made me try harder and it got me attention. And I liked that part of the deal,” he smirked, recollecting how addicting all that attention was. 

Blaise straightened his collar. “But at school, when you and I became friends. We talked with half-bloods from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff all the time, drank with some on a regular basis even. Most of those girls flirted you up and you didn’t seem bothered then.” 

Draco considered this. “True. I might have even let myself fool around with a half-blood once. I can’t really remember, she was foreign,” he looked off like he was remembering a really great night. 

“Hello, Draco?” Blaise said. “I don’t see you having a problem with partying and drinking with any of the muggles tonight.” 

Draco shook his head to clear the old memories. “I don’t mind muggles that much anymore, like I can be around them sure. And I don’t want them to be eradicated and tortured, like our fathers seem to think should happen. I did get out before I was really turned into an executioner.” 

Blaise’s voice was prying. “So tell me; how is being here, at this school, any different?” 

Draco looked annoyed. “They’re bloody muggles for Merlin’s sake! It just feels so wrong. They don’t have magic, for one thing. And we just don’t know enough about them. They’re just such flighty, stupid, irritating people,” he was thinking of her. 

“And what if they really do taint our magic somehow? I’m not chancing that,” Draco said with casual disgust, like he hadn’t just summed up an entire life’s worth of brainwashing racism.

“You do realize it’s so, so much more than that right?” Blaise looked incredulous at his best friend. 

Blaise knew Draco’s childhood was terrible, hell, everyone knew that; his father was insane. But he thought by some stretch Draco would at least be more educated on muggles by now. Although, when Blaise thought about it, he never had seen Draco in a single muggle studies class. 

Blaise sighed again. “This isn’t about if someone has ‘dirty blood’ or whatever that even means. Those old stories and rumors are long since proved wrong. We know a lot about muggles now and they’re no different than us, save the magic part. Witches and wizards can also be flighty and stupid and irritating.” Blaise’s voice was soft but stern. “It’s discrimination we are talking about here Draco, of real, live humans. And it’s disgusting.” 

Draco didn’t say anything. His mouth stayed in a sharp line. Thoughts of change were rushing through his head, the ones he always pushed away. But the thoughts kept coming back, no thanks to Blaise’s constant ranting, and it was frustrating. 

Blaise stopped walking and turned to face his best friend. “It’s the real reason why you’re so angry over that stupid mark on your arm,” Blaise gestured, “and when you found out your father’s real plans for you, even if you won’t admit that. It’s about hurting people. It’s about control.” 

“Okay okay, I get it. I’ll lay off for fuck’s sake, you sound like our mums,” Draco scoffed, feeling the vulnerability trying to seep out. He looked to the sky again, wishing the stars to come out. He would feel better seeing his family’s names light up the night. 

They walked for a little longer, Blaise steering them in the direction of a bar downtown. “Mate, I don’t give a dragon’s arse if I sound like my mum. We should be sounding like them, at least they had the sense to get us out of there,” Blaise said then. 

“And by Merlin, can you be that wrapped up in your own blood that muggle girls actually disgust you that much? They’re still girls mate! Girls!” Blaise held his hands out.

Draco’s jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything. Blaise continued. “Oh come on. If you toned down your ego for a little you’d actually be able to get some good ones. And there are good ones. There’s plenty tonight that have eyed you up, it’s annoying really.” 

Draco finally spoke, his voice harsh. “You know I love the feeling of a woman falling all over me Blaise, don’t get me wrong. And of course I noticed tonight. I’d be a fool not to. But some things just don’t change. Some things can’t change.”

Blaise just shook his head. They walked the rest of the way in silence. It was only one more block. Blaise watched as an edginess stole over Draco’s features; he absentmindedly scratched at the tattoo hidden under his left sleeve.

“They really did a number on you before you left, didn’t they?” Blaise’s voice was quiet as they approached the bar. Draco just looked away, not wanting to let Blaise have the satisfaction of being right, even if he was. 

“Did you actually see how you treated her, by the way, another human being?” Blaise said then. 

Draco looked up. “Well, I- Wait. Why the bloody hell am I justifying myself to you? Why am I being interrogated on a fucking night out over a mudblood who I was pettily mean to?” he asked, lowering his voice and pulling Blaise away from anyone who could hear them.

“You started this whole conversation when you decided to pick a fight with her Drake,” Blaise stated simply. “Open your eyes to the bigger problems, mate. Like the fact that what you think is petty is actually not at all when you think about her blood status.”

“She was a bitch, that’s reason enough to dislike her, being a muggle just went along with it. Makes things easier I’d say. So many muggles think they’re just so high and mighty. I treated her how I would anyone pissing me off, Blaise. Maybe a little worse because I’m wasted, but whatever,” Draco’s anger was obviously starting to rise again. 

“Oh come off it. Something about a muggle woman standing up for herself and insulting you along the way really gets under your skin,” Blaise argued back. “We're death eaters' sons mate, you need to shape up and start thinking about your choices, or you're just as bad as your father was making you out to be.” 

The words stung and Blaise watched as Draco tried not to flinch. Blaise wasn’t done. “You can't hate her just because she's a muggle with a knack for insults. It’s like I said already, witches and wizards can be flighty and stupid too. Blood has nothing to do with it.” 

Malfoy put a hand over his eyes. Blaise looked at him. “I know you wouldn't have fired so quickly at her if she was a witch. She was good looking too, even by your standards she was, and you know it."

Malfoy couldn’t come up with anything to say; he knew Blaise was right and he hated it. He walked a couple paces down the street, his hand in his hair. He breathed in the cool air but it didn’t help clear the mess in his mind. 

Times were changing, but something in him couldn’t just disregard years and years of nasty morals instilled in his very existence. Thoughts of growing up in Malfoy Manor, he could punish a house elf before he could ride a bicycle. 

Okay, maybe that’s pretty fucking disgusting of a human to have learned at not even five years old, Draco thought to himself. But it was his father’s doing. And he had always wanted his father to be proud of him. At least, that’s what Lucius had always told him he should want. And Lucius made all his choices for him. 

Fuck. He hated the man. And he hated making excuses for himself. But not being able to make your own decisions really fucks a person over. While it was true, he didn’t believe everything his father said, the prejudice seeped out of Lucius like a disease. And Draco could only do so much to avoid catching it. 

As if reading Draco’s mind, Blaise looked at him. “You actively made the decision to leave the death eaters in the end. I won’t let you forget that.” 

Draco sighed and threw the end of the joint to the ground. “Then why is everything else so fucking difficult?” He squashed the burnt ember with his heel.

“That I am unsure of,” Blaise noted. 

For Blaise it had been so easy to disregard any dark arts; his mother forbade anything in their house and she closely watched what his father said to him. His father was a little less crazy than Draco’s, but nonetheless was one of the first to return with Lucius when the Dark Lord took power again. He talked the talk when his father was around, but never really cared about blood status the way Draco was taught to flaunt it. 

Draco’s voice was bitter. This night was turning into a disaster. “If I at least agree to consider all this will you drop the conversation here and now? I’m getting a headache from all this good moral talk,” Malfoy tried to make a jab at his friend, but he was hoping it came across as somewhat serious so Blaise would really lay off his back. 

“Alright, fine. For now at least. Don’t think I won’t bring this up again,” Blaise looked seriously at his friend as he said the words, making sure he understood. 

“Of course you will,” Draco gestured to the door of the house and Blaise led the way. The bar was dimly lit and there were a few people their age congregated around two of the three tables in the corner. Blaise went to the bar and, once he had two drinks in his hands, followed Draco over to the last table. 

...

An hour and a half later, Blaise and Draco were quite drunk as they sat in the corner of the now crowded bar. A group of girls danced in the corner and the bar area was difficult to get through without bumping into someone. 

Blaise had kindly avoided the topic of the recent past and instead chose to discuss muggle soccer. Draco didn’t know much of the game but Blaise seemed to find it even better than quidditch. Draco doubted this. 

They were deep into their comparison of the two games when a group of girls entered the bar. Draco glanced at them and suddenly, there she was. The bitchy muggle girl strutted in, looking much more laid back than before. She had let her curls fall loose from her pins and her cheeks were red from alcohol. Draco stared rather aggressively. 

Blaise had continued talking, but when he realized Draco wasn’t paying any attention he paused. He followed Draco’s gaze and, upon seeing who it ended in, he chuckled. “Oi, mate. I’m going to get us another drink,” he stood then. “Stay here. And stop staring or I’d say you’re into her.” Blaise turned instantly and started making his way to the bar. 

There's no fucking way I would even like a fucking muggle, for fuck's sake Blaise! Draco thought viciously as he watched Blaise stroll off towards the bar. 

As his eyes wandered the room again, he found his gaze focusing on the brunette. She smiled almost seductively to her friends as a new song came on and Draco couldn't stop staring at the way her shorts hugged her thighs. 

No, fuck her. And not in the good way, ugh.

Draco needed to distract himself, lest he decide to go over and confront her again. He got up then and followed Blaise to the bar. When he stepped up next to his friend, Blaise looked annoyed as the bartenders continually avoided him for the many girls that were flocked to his left and right.

“Aye mate, this bar is fucking pathetic,” said Blaise, waving a hand in the air.

“Why don’t you just use magic? It’s not like people will notice,” Malfoy suggested, picking at his fingernails. 

“I’d rather be as discreet as possible, you do remember we’re in hiding? So no, I’ll wait,” Blaise stated firmly. 

“Anyway,” Draco tried to clear his mind. “I think we should really look into finding some decent muggle bastards to keep as friends here so we can at least pass the courses without looking like complete idiot muggles. I do have a reputation to uphold you know,” He leaned against the bar, facing Blaise with a look of half boredom smeared across his face. 

“You know, you keep running your mouth like that I’m gonna break you a new one,” Blaise said, turning to face Draco with two fresh glasses in his hands. He held one out to him, but when Draco grabbed for it, he took it out of his reach. 

“You only get this if you promise not to insult the next people we talk to. I actually want to get laid tonight, unlike you. Deal?” Blaise tried. Draco scoffed and moved to grab the drink, taking a heavy swig. 

“I’ll be nice if they are…” he glared, and they went back towards their table. A group of girls were now occupying it, standing together skimpily clad and quite tipsy. Blaise led the way right towards them. 

As Blaise talked to the girls Draco grew bored fast; there were three of them in the group and not one had anything that great to offer. See, if all muggle girls are this plain and boring and annoying, I have a reason to hate them, right? he laughed to himself, taking each one in turn.

The first, a short haired blonde, had a great body but her laugh was grating. And she laughed far too often for what they were talking about. The second was an Indian girl that reminded him of one of the Patil twins. She had a beautiful smile and talked on and on about playing tennis. He had no idea what that was, but it sounded like some kind of sport. 

Anyway, she was eying Blaise with a look of lust and it was not subtle. The third woman was busy scanning the room like she was in trouble, her hair pulled too tight in her ponytail. Draco was unimpressed and a little creeped out. In that case, he took to leaning against the wall, still sipping his drink and staring at the rest of the crowd without really looking. 

He didn’t even realize he was staring at her again until Blaise coughed to get his attention. Shit, he thought, just great, why did it have to be her again?! Hermione danced in dizzying circles as Draco drew his gaze away rather slowly. Fuck. 

“We’re headed back home, if that’s cool with you,” Blaise stated, gesturing to the girl on his left. “You coming?” Draco downed the rest of his glass and nodded, following Blaise and the dark haired girl towards the door. He took one last glance around but couldn’t see her and decided he was stupid for looking anyway. 

As the cool night air hit his face out in the street, his mind mixed with rum and the muggle girl’s spiteful voice. And he was bitter.

…

On Saturday, Hermione woke with a headache and bile in her stomach, evidence of a blurry night. She groaned at the small crack of light blinding her from the curtains she failed to close properly last night. 

Rolling over, she shuffled her way to her bathroom, trying to discern how the night finished up in this state. As she splashed the soap off her face, she looked down in the silver bowl to see white foam swirling away down the drain. Her mind felt foggy all of sudden with images of clear liquid shots and blonde hair; it made her want to vomit.

She clutched her stomach and sat by the toilet, head in her hands. Her insides hurt, but nothing came up and she sat there piecing together the night. She remembered the first house and dancing and a stain on white shoes. 

Then the memories surfaced quickly. Walking to the second house and the fight with Malfoy on the porch and his white hot anger. But wait, she definitely won that argument. She remembered they celebrated and she danced, right? Was there a man besides the arrogant blonde involved there at some point? Well, it was all fuzzy after that… except… 

“Ugh no!” She bent over the toilet and emptied her stomach in one huge heave. Sitting back, gasping for air to cool the burning in her throat, she recalled what had made her violently throw up so fast. 

It wasn’t just the hangover; she had suddenly remembered an important part of the whole fight she had had with, what was his name? Malloy? She didn’t recall but it didn’t matter; she had bigger problems on her hands. 

The mix of alcohol and anger had released the littlest spark of magic when he had shoved past her and now, with a clear mind, she was paranoid. If he felt it, what had he thought it was? He seemed too angry to notice, at least she hoped…

Her inner dialogue was cut off as she proceeded to gag two more times in a row, barely getting in a breath. Her door swung open to Erin draping her arms along the doorway, wearing a baggy t-shirt and no pants. 

“Oh shit,” she laughed to her friend, her makeup smeared under her eyes. She must have fallen asleep on Hermione’s couch. Hermione pulled her face up, her eyes pink with some tears from the strain of vomiting. She glared at Erin’s grinning face. 

“I’m fine,” Hermione moaned, slumping on the floor in a heap. 

“Your head’s in the trash can girl,” Erin said from the door.

“That’s where I belong anyway, so shut it,” said Hermione’s muffled voice from the floor where Erin couldn’t see her. “Just tell me I made a complete fool of myself and I’m never drinking again.” 

“Girl, you don’t mean that. And you weren’t a complete fool, I mean, he certainly liked what you were offering. You were all over him, I’m so proud!” Erin sang as she danced in a circle.

Horror struck Hermione then; I- I- There’s no fucking way. I came home alone, didn’t I?! I cannot have been all over that pretentious blonde arse! I just couldn’t have!

Her head shot up too fast and she held her forehead, vomiting again. When she was finished she stared at Erin, eyes burning, begging for information. She croaked out a “who” and Erin just looked confused. 

“Oh ho ho, you don’t remember, do you?” She smiled viciously. And then it dawned on Erin; Hermione was obviously assuming it was the blonde. Hermione’s angry face confirmed it. 

“Hermione, relax! It was that guy from your lit class last year, Michael or whatever,” she consoled crouching down to help her. “I mean he’s cool and pretty damn hot. Not to mention that ass…” she winked at this, trying to be funny. Hermione smiled but burst into tears in Erin’s lap. 

“Thank God!” she said as relief washed over her. Knowing it was only Michael made her feel remarkably better, despite her current state on the bathroom floor. 

But at the same time, she thought of Malfoy and how he probably felt the magic. Yes, her magic had a way of getting away from her, but it was only under a lot of emotional stress; mainly the times had been when people had bullied her as a child, and then very rarely through high school. Only one break up had her at magic’s end, and the trickle that sparked that time was in her closed fist, right before it hit him in the lip. 

She had hidden her magic now for so long and she knew she could keep it in. So why did it escape, that tiny bit, right then? 

It’s just my anger, I remember, I was so fucking angry, she thought to herself, as Erin held her. Ugh that blonde, what a prick. She was still livid at how he had treated her. It was so stupid to even let him get to her, but people like that were the worst. They never learned. 

She told herself she really needed to keep her emotions in check from now on, lest they really blow up on her and she caused some bizarre accident or something. As much as she liked having magic, it sure was a burden when no one else knew about it or could relate. 

“Sorry Erin. I- I’m just- I’m a mess really, but we already knew that!” she laughed at herself as she smiled at Erin through watery eyes. As she wiped them, mascara swirled with the salt of her tears on her fingertips. 

She remembered the boy Blaise, who had accompanied the foul blonde. All she could think of was how such a charming person could be friends with such a vile one. And yet, Malfoy had stated Blaise was just as awful. She was still left wondering if that was true… 

When Hermione asked Erin about it, she didn’t have an answer either. “Maybe it’s a bribe,” smiled Erin, helping Hermione to her feet. “I did see him try not to laugh when you were firing insults last night, maybe he’s the better catch out of the two!”

“Oh, he is the only catch out of those two!” Hermione said, wiping her face on her sleeve. 

“Okay, okay, well why don’t you focus your attention on him instead! Now wash your face again and meet me in the kitchen. I’ll make us up something to eat.” Erin stated, leaving abruptly.

Hermione obliged begrudgingly, but thanked Erin. She heard the door to her apartment open and close and knew she was alone. When she looked in the mirror, she saw the black streaks down her face. With her hair all bushy from sleep and her baggy t-shirt, she looked such a mess. 

It wasn’t Michael’s t-shirt, but she almost wished it was; at least then she wouldn’t be forced to think about all the rest of the crap that went on last night.

That damn bastard! God he was stubborn and rude! I didn’t even DO anything, at least I don’t remember doing anything… He’s just an arse and that’s all he was doing, picking a fight. Ugh! She splashed water across her face aggressively, as if it would wash away the bitterness.

She walked out to the kitchen and sat with her cup of coffee on a stool, lost in thoughts of alcohol and blondes with superiority complexes in a school where hierarchy was already well established. She had never even heard of him before this and it didn’t make sense for him to be all full of attitude like that. 

Erin waltzed back in sometime in the middle of her thoughts. She carried a box of muffins. 

“It’s not like he has any real reason for being such a prat though,” Hermione began. Erin looked up from the oven at the sound of her voice.

“I mean, really,” Hermione reasoned. “The sports teams all have well established reputations, I don’t see why he thinks he can compete. Most of the clubs have their own social hierarchies too and he doesn’t seem like he’d want to work his way up that kind of ladder.” 

It made Hermione’s stomach turn; she hated attitude like that, and entitlement. Everyone had both good and bad in them, in Hermione’s opinion, and riding out that bad side never got you far in the long run. 

“You know, I’ve never seen him until now, like in any of my years here I feel like I’d remember that hair or that attitude, and this school isn’t that big,” Hermione said.

“Well then Hermione, maybe the best solution would be for you to help him out a bit, find a nice place for that huge ego of his,” Erin giggled. It was too early for Hermione to catch Erin’s sexual innuendo and she looked confused. “Oh come on, you know that fox has to be hiding something rather large to be able to walk around like he owns everyone and everything in sight!” 

“Piss off Erin! I’ve had enough from you about his looks!” Hermione sighed exasperatedly. “For a girl who dates so many beautiful girls you sure haven’t shut up about how attractive the brat is,” Hermione said. 

“Not that I think he’s attractive,” Hermione corrected. “I have already made it clear that his complete lack of a functioning brain makes him despicable. He’s completely insane, inane, and an imbecile and I will not bother with him anymore.”

“Don’t forget, opposites attract Hermione. You might find out he’s actually quite your type if you guys exchanged real dialogue instead of insults. For someone who does a lot of reading, you sure are judging a book by its cover!” Erin said. “You never know…” 

“Well lucky for me Erin I didn’t just look at the cover, I read the author’s note and you know what? It said you and him were both full of shit.” 

Promptly she got up and cleared her dishes. She didn’t want to listen to Erin try to persuade her about this guy anymore. Besides, if she was going to attempt to keep her emotions and magic in check then she needed to forget him. 

As she was leaving the kitchen she was almost to her room before Erin spoke up again. “You better watch it though Hermione. You keep finding ways to bring him up in conversation and I can tell your mind is still reeling with him. One day down the road on a real drunk night you’ll wake up next to him and then you’ll be speechless!” 

Hermione stopped at her doorway and glared at Erin, who only shrugged in return and continued to pick at the muffin in her hand. Her eyes were bright. 

Hermione’s annoyance didn’t leave her as she closed her door. She threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and got her bag ready. After a quick brush of her hair to make it look like she at least was somewhat put together, she was out the door. 

She signed up for a freshman mentoring program and there was an information meeting that afternoon. The warm air felt good on her muddled mind. Soon enough she approached the correct room on campus just in time for the speaker, who was organizing notes on the podium. As the room quieted down for the meeting, so did Hermione’s mind and she was happy for the easy distraction.


	3. Old Friends and the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo finally arrives and the boys discuss Voldy, the past, the muggle party from the night before, and just why it took him so long to get here...  
> Oh, and a lovely first day of school for them :)

Sunlight streamed through Draco’s front window spilling over his emerald bedspread that loosely draped his still sleeping body. He was on his stomach, one leg completely exposed, hanging half off the bed. His hair fell haphazardly on his forehead and he snored slightly. The door slammed open and he groaned.

“Get the fuck out Blaise,” came his muffled voice from under a pillow. He hated when he forgot to close his blinds at night and he hated even more when he forgot to lock his door because that meant Blaise could wake him up whenever he felt like it. He had been making it a point to do so all summer. 

“Mate, it is two in the afternoon. You need to get the hell up already,” Blaise stated strutting into the room and pulling the blinds open even further, yanking the sheets off. Draco cringed at the cold air coming in and peeked out at Blaise with slitted eyes from under his pillow. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that you lazy piece of shit get up, we have to go meet Theo at his new portkey location. Let’s just hope he actually makes it this time…” Blaise said, and he left Draco to get up in peace. 

Draco glared at the doorway where Blaise had just been. He hadn’t slept well; he had to listen to Blaise’s screechy mudblood as the two fucked into the early morning. He hadn’t trusted himself to cast a Muffliato in his drunken state so he’d been forced to listen. 

Sure Draco had slept with a few moaners, but they didn’t moan quite as weird as that girl did last night for Blaise. Were all muggle girls like that? Or had Blaise just not pleased her correctly? Probably the latter, Draco chuckled at his own joke as he got up to take a shower.

Draco hated when Blaise had a girl and he didn’t and since he made it clear he wasn’t about to go after any muggles he was bound to spend every night alone here. Blaise, on the other hand, had no problem doing so. 

Standing in the hot steam, Draco let the warmth ease away the headache pounding in his brain. Man, I drank way too much, he thought, leaning his forehead against the wall. Fuck, why though? What even happened last night? 

He racked his brain for any recollection of the events of last night, but all that was coming to mind was watching Blaise and some girl talk and her friends trying to get Draco’s attention. And they wouldn’t have even if they’d been witches… 

As he turned off the shower, he slipped. Catching himself on the wall, he was reminded why he had drank so much. Fucking bitchy muggle, Merlin how could I forget?! 

His anger fumed up again at the thought of her and her backlash. As he walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, all he could feel was his hot temper, like he never left the steam of the shower. 

He threw around some clothes with more aggression than needed until he found clean ones and got dressed. No one’s really stood up to me that way, well except for Potter… He was reminded of his fights through his Hogwarts years with the scarred boy who lived, but he didn’t feel the same bitter resent. 

Now that he thought about Harry’s actual situation, Draco did feel a little bit sorry for his enemy schoolmate. Fuck, Draco didn’t even want to face Lord Voldemort at his own house for breakfast let alone when he’s angry. Draco would admit to giving Potter some credit now, even if it made him feel like a coward and brought bile to his lips. 

He met Blaise in the hall in a matter of minutes and grabbed an apple from the kitchen before they left. They headed for an empty field about three blocks from their townhouse. Their house was definitely too large for just two people, and even adding Theo to the mix, it was far more like a rich business man’s office than student housing. I guess that’s the point though, we are in hiding… 

The muggle girl was still on his mind as they waited in the field; she was slightly haughty and just as quick witted as himself. It was scary.

“Something’s wrong with me,” he stated suddenly, and Blaise began to laugh. 

“Well, if you’d like to know, I’ll get out the list,” he said between chuckles. 

“Come off it, I mean it. Do you remember that annoying muggle brat from last night?” Draco questioned, hoping Blaise had a better memory than him and could clarify. “Did she seem at all intimidated by me? The amount of rum and weed I must have had after that is muddling my brain as to the details of our unnecessary encounter with her.” 

“Are you kidding me mate? I wanted to personally thank her for shutting your stubborn mouth up for once! I’ve never seen a girl do it!” praised Blaise. 

“Yeah, yeah very funny. I cannot believe her nerve, what a complete bitch, she really thinks she’s something, oh, she’s glad I didn’t have my wand,” Draco sneered, clenching a fist.

“And you wonder why I took it from you when we left the house last night,” sighed Blaise. “You keep that up and I’m going to start taking your wand more often.” 

Draco sneered in response and Blaise continued. “And come on for the last time, she was not that bad and you deserved it! You were such a prick! Like honestly, I don’t know where that came from,” Blaise stated, looking at Draco seriously. 

“I know you stopped being THAT pushy and arrogant way back at school after like fourth year, when you found out it didn’t actually work to get you real friends. You need to lighten up, this may not be the ideal location you want to be in, but we have to lay low. Just relax, mate, and lay off the muggles.” 

“Are you just saying that so when you fuck her later, I won’t make fun of you? Because I still will no matter what. It would be disrespectful to you if I didn’t uphold such a high standard of friendship you know,” Draco smiled, trying to find something to distract him from the muggle girl’s annoying retorts that were coming back to him through the haze of a hangover. 

“Hilarious, but so what if I was to sleep with her? I bet she’s a great shag, and seeing the jealousy smeared across your face the next day would be worth it,” Blaise countered. 

Draco could do nothing to retort; he was having a hard time not thinking about her body moving to the music from last night and he had to shake his head of the vile thoughts. Ugh how long has it actually been since I’ve fucked someone? 

“Fuck off. I told you already I wouldn’t go near her, let alone be jealous of you with her,” Draco made clear. “Plus, I changed my ways when pretention didn’t work on witches and wizards. Mudbloods on the other hand are probably easy to manipulate…” 

They were still arguing when they heard a familiar pop and Theo tumbled into view, a broken pocket watch hanging from his long fingers. 

Theo was supposed to arrive last night, however ill placed events with his brother and father had made sneaking out quite difficult despite extensive planning. A very small and faint patronus had appeared in the kitchen window. Upon letting the squirrel-looking animal in, it spoke in Theo’s voice, heavy with annoyance that his arrival would be delayed. 

“And you really have got to stop using that word mate! Seriously! You’re using it wrong anyway, if she’s not a witch, she’s just a muggle,” Blaise’s voice was stern in the empty field and he was looking at Draco with disapproval. 

“What, ‘mudblood?’ Oh come on, I use it to be endearing really! I don’t really mean it, like only kind of, it’s second nature by now anyway- What?” Draco shrugged looking unapologetic. 

Blaise has narrowed his eyes to slits. Draco just laughed. “At least I didn’t hook up with one, that’s just wrong! You take the cake on that one,” Draco retorted, grinning at Theo as he greeted them. 

“Really! Stop saying that word, I’ll tell your mum, she’ll have your neck! I swear it. And so what if I did hook up with Jess? I fucking fucked her too and I bet you heard her screams through the walls last night, it was that great!” Blaise said with an air of victory. 

“Things have changed mate, you need to figure it out. Hey Theo,” Blaise said then, turning. “It’s been a while.”

“Nice to see you guys haven’t changed too much,” Theo chuckled, extending his hand to each in turn. He was a lean, dark haired boy and it appeared he hadn’t been taking the best care of himself as of late. 

His tall figure was slightly bent forward and there was stubble peppering his small chin. He had a knapsack casually hanging on his back that looked too small for his height. It had been four months of summer since they’d last seen him, and his face looked worn, like he’d seen a lot of things he hadn’t wanted to see. 

“-Ey it has been awhile, hasn’t it? All of summer actually, if I’m not mistaken,” he said, looking at his friends. 

“We aren’t finished here Blaise, just so you know,” Draco said, and he turned to Theo. 

“How’s it going Theo? Was it really that hard to get away for you, took you long enough,” Draco knew Theo would supply them with more information than they’d had in a while; he was eager to hear what had developed since they left and if, by some miracle, his family had stayed out of trouble. 

“Yeah, actually it was really hard to get away. My dad is such a bastard. Wait until I tell you some of the shit they tried to get me to do…” Theo began, but he didn’t say much just yet. 

They needed to wait until they were back in the safety of their own house before they could really talk. The house had wards to protect their safety and it was best to keep anything about magic, wizards, and wars out of the public’s ears. They walked out of the field finding the road again and headed back. 

…

“Well, I started off the summer trying to find out what I should do, you know. I mean, you saw how our parents were getting after that attack on Hogwarts, half went straight back,” Theo sighed.

They had gathered in the kitchen when they’d reached their townhouse. It was an old Malfoy family property. Theo and Blaise were seated around the ornate wood table. Draco was perched up on the quartz countertop by the sink. 

Draco remembered how their families had acted after the first war. They were desperate to hold on to some semblance of the way it had been, even if that meant displaying arrogance like diamonds to brag about. 

Their families walked all over people and corrupted their way through political standings. Draco was taught that that was what made other people jealous of their family. And that he had every right to do what he please because he was better, superior, pureblood. 

Draco ignored the memories; he wanted to stop thinking about the bad parts of his past. Despite their most recent argument back in the field, Draco had promised Blaise on multiple occasions to attempt to be civil in their new living situation. If he was going to follow through with his promise to do that and attempt to be a better person, those thoughts needed to end. But he wasn’t sure how easily they would…

Four years prior, during the summer before 6th year, things had started to change. The boys’ families were much more involved in politics than before; one of their fathers’ ‘friends’ was going to run for Minister of Magic. Draco wasn’t stupid and knew it was just a ploy for power. 

That’s when Draco and Blaise had started attending a few of the meetings. Draco’s father had said it was so he could get acquainted with the right kind of people. That they would soon be finding a lot more responsibility on their hands.

Lucius’s ulterior motive shone through his teeth; he threatened Draco whenever he was noncompliant. Draco had been happy to go to Hogwarts that September, if it only meant time away from a shitty, stressful home life. 

By Christmas break, Draco had come home to half the manor in death eaters’ hands. His mother was nowhere in sight and he was thrust full force into the darkness. He did a lot of off the books kind of work for his father, who charmingly continued threats as he encouraged his son to follow in his footsteps. 

Draco found he held a lot of power because of his father, but he didn’t welcome it. On New Year’s Eve, Lucius came to Draco practically beaming; Draco was to take the Dark Mark. Lucius wouldn’t stop smiling. Draco was full of resent. Somewhere in the house late that evening after, he could just hear his mother. She was crying.

By April, Draco was a shadow of his former self; he kept to himself or the few Slytherins that were involved the same way he was. When he had found out plans for an attack, he was anything but willing. He might have been raised as a pretty shitty person, but things were looking bleak. 

He hated Harry and Dumbledore, but he didn’t want them dead. When he refused to help, Lucius had used the Cruciatus as well as his own fist to get the message home. He had been the last person to look upon his former headmaster as Snape cast the killing curse; he saw the man fall out of an almost swollen shut eye. 

Draco shivered, his eyes hard. He tried to focus on Theo instead. 

“Then after Dumbledore died, he went silent for a while. Everyone assumed he was hunting for Harry, you remember that. Because Potter and Weasley and a band of those Gryffindors ran off, escaped right under a bunch of death eaters. You-know-Who was so pissed,” Theo reminded them.

“Shit yeah, I remember that,” Draco recalled. “I got promoted though, wasn’t that nice of my dad?” the sarcasm sounded vile wrapped around his words.

The past few years Draco, Blaise, and Theo had spent life in hell at the manor, doing bidding for their fathers or other death eaters. Draco’s pessimism and sarcasm had woven into his personality in some desperate way to ignore how wrong everything was around him. 

“God, our parents are fucked up. Why they ever thought following an immortal lunatic was a good idea is beyond me,” Blaise stated abruptly. 

“I know! I didn’t think they’d be so quick to be back in on this whole mess, seeing as how the first time things obviously didn’t go well for em,” Theo went on. But he changed the subject. 

“Anyway, I found out after you guys left that when You-Know-Who was away, our dads had a secret project. And they’ve been working hard on it.” He looked at each of the boys seriously. “They’re reopening Hogwarts.” 

Draco gaped and Blaise looked as if someone had slapped him. “Yeah… The only reason I was told is because with you guys gone I was lucky enough to get Head Boy status,” Theo stated, as if the title disgusted him. “I don’t even want to know the punishments I would have been allowed to give out.” 

“Merlin knows my dad was probably jerking it with joy the minute he heard the news, a school devoted to dark arts? How grand,” said Draco shuttering. It was a disturbingly accurate mental image for them all. “What are they going to do, turn it into a death eater training camp? 

“Most likely yes,” Theo looked glum. 

“Gives a whole new meaning to ‘educational reform,’” Blaise said miserably. 

“They’re in early stages, but my mum didn’t want me involved. She tried hard to help me avoid meetings and such,” Theo explained. “But there was only so much pretending until my dad realized...I was just so mad all the time. We got into so many fights,” he looked away and rubbed his fist with his free hand.

“It wasn’t until two weeks ago that he really went off. That’s when, when he called me… a blood traitor for the first time and well…” Theo mumbled. “I lost it. I told my mum I had to leave. I’d find you guys if I could.”

“Fuck,” Blaise said, looking up. He had been staring at a spot on the floor. “I’m sorry about your dad Theo. He wasn’t exactly the nicest man ever, but he was your dad.” 

“My father would have had my ballsack around his neck if I would have lashed out like that,” Draco chimed in trying to sound sympathetic, but it came out as a lame attempt and Blaise glared. 

“Really Draco? You think this is a good time for jokes?” Blaise’s anger rose. “We are talking about our lives, our families, our classmates’ lives! Act intelligent for once and show us you care,” Blaise got up, throwing his chair aside with more force than necessary.

“Well sorry but in case you failed to notice, our families are just as fucked up! So bravo, Theo, really, congratulations for actually having the balls to stand up to your old man. Not all of us are so lucky…” Draco managed. 

Draco looked at his arms in his lap, the memory of his father’s bruises coming back to him. There were a lot of vile things they’d forced him to do. But it hadn’t been like he hadn’t wanted to fight back; he just found it terribly difficult to fight family. How do you fight back against the bonds of tradition, against love, against bloodlines? 

Fucking bloodlines… He put his head on his knee, a bruise currently on his ankle. Stupid muggle girl, he remembered angrily, continuing to glare out the window as Blaise and Theo talked. 

“What is his problem?” Theo asked Blaise quietly, pointing to their brooding friend. 

“Nothing, just a shitty night for Mr. Everything-should-go-my-way,” Blaise rolled his eyes. “A muggle girl accidently spilled a drink on him last night when we were out. And then she fell on him,” Blaise said, trying to lighten up the gloom that hung in the room. Theo smiled.

“And now he’s just bitter because she actually stood up for herself and called him out for being the prick he was. He’s been getting his fair share of rude awakenings with all these muggles around, and it’s only been the first weekend. Just ignore him, I’m sure the snake will have to lighten up eventually,” said Blaise, smiling back. 

“Ha well that is fucking hilarious, I wish I had gotten here sooner. I would pay money to see that,” Theo chuckled, “It must have been great!” 

He looked over at Malfoy sulking on the counter, staring out the window ready to hex the bushes to nothing. The boys welcomed the change of subject.

“Fucking brat,” Draco said under his breath.

“Oh believe me, he’s still all defensive about it,” Blaise mused, “that’s what we were talking about when you got here. Really, I think he’s just so sexually frustrated that he was trying not to fuck her in front of everyone,” Blaise joked rather quietly.

“I can still hear you, you flaming arsehole,” Draco jumped from the counter then. He began pacing, twirling his wand in intricate circles like he was remembering some spell. “I’ll hex your balls off before I fuck her, now continue the damn story Theo, before I fall asleep.” 

“You’re such a piece of shit Drake, you really are. But I wouldn’t really have ya any other way. Good to see you guys, really. I’ve missed this,” Theo smiled quickly, before letting his features become serious again. 

“So before I up and left, I was fighting with my dad. He kept telling me he needed me to be around more and stop shoving off duties. When I had refused enough times, he finally mentions they were talking about giving me the mark...” He eyed Draco nervously.

Draco shrugged it off. “Oh, you didn’t want the honor of a permanent connection with every single, psycho death eater including the grand Dark Lord Psycho himself? Hard to believe anyone would pass that up,” he said, his words dripping with resent. Some honor…

The boys sat not talking for a few minutes, a thick silence hanging in the air. Blaise broke it with a quiet voice. “You know Draco, we can see right through you. I’ve seen you stand up to your father even if it meant blood was drawn. I meant what I said. Just agreeing to come here means something.” 

“Maybe it does Blaise,” Draco cut in, “but that doesn’t mean I haven’t done some pretty shitty stuff because of them,” he hopped back up on the counter, slamming his heels into the wood. “It doesn’t mean I’m any different if I still got this, this thing that proves my allegiance,” he said, yanking his sleeve down as the mark on his forearm begin to itch. 

It had never hurt until he had been snuck away by his mother this summer here with Blaise. They now knew why their mothers had been so insistent to get them to leave; they didn’t want them back at a death eater controlled Hogwarts with tattoos to match. 

He scratched at his arm again, knowing he could never remove the mark completely. The best he could do then was magic, placed on it to break its connection with the others’ marks and stop the burning. Apparently that was Dolohov’s little added touch for dissenders. Fucking maniac. 

It had taken months of hard work and research to learn the enchantment needed and it was by far the trickiest spell he knew of. Snape had helped him with it. But what if they tried to reconnect it? 

He didn’t want to think about it and made a mental note to redo the spells tonight. He feared that’s why it had started to itch or burn without warning every so often and he couldn’t risk that. He couldn’t risk Blaise’s and Theo’s lives either. 

“But Drake, you didn’t ask for it,” Blaise started, “you’re here with muggles-”

“It also doesn’t mean I have to go shagging every goddamn muggle that talks to me just to prove I don’t stand for exactly what our parents do,” he said after taking a joint from his pocket and lighting it with a wave of his hand. 

He let the smoke slowly seep out of his lips, the smell of marijuana was lost into the room. “Just because I found the audacity to leave doesn’t mean I’m the poster child for this fucking war…” 

The room was quiet for some time after this statement. Blaise hadn’t realized just what it meant for Draco to leave; his friends were praising him for leaving, like it made him some kind of rebel. 

But if he actually fought back, who knows what the Dark Lord would do; to his family was still on the Dark Lord’s side. And Draco was blacklisted by them. It was scary but it made sense why Draco continued to uphold such a superiority complex. Maybe he was being truthful when he said he wasn’t as prejudiced as his family taught him to be- he just was too scared to show it. 

“That’s what it’s coming down to, isn’t it… war?” Blaise said quietly, angry at the words as they left his lips. 

“It sure seems like it,” Theo said heavily after some time. “They said they were gonna offer the mark to others too. Isn’t that something? Trying to make it seem like, like glory,” Theo stumbled on the words. 

“Hogwarts as we know it is no more…” Draco sighed. 

He remembered Hogwarts, way before taking the mark; it became clear just how different his home life was from the real world then. He became keener on just how far this so-called popularity their families had went. 

Draco wasn’t immune to the things he caught people saying about his and other Slytherin families alike. He tried to ignore the harshness, but their family’s wealth and status only went so far until the corruption showed. 

He kept his attitude about him, they could all go fuck off for all he cared; he would drop the word “mudblood” and go off about blood status like he was taught, just to get a rise out of people and to seek some attention.

Some people listened, some people got tired of listening. Eventually it made Draco less outwardly pretentious, at least to his closest friends. But it was easy to still use bad words with Voldemort gone for good. He didn’t hate muggles, but he didn’t like them either. He tolerated them. 

It wasn’t until that summer after 4th year, when Voldemort was officially resurrected that things started to really change for him. And now, years later, in hiding because of the realization of what Voldemort’s return really would bring, he might have to really start reconsidering just what it meant to be of magical blood, to be a wizard. It made him shudder to think about. 

“This is much more serious than we thought,” Blaise’s eyebrows were knitted together. 

“Like, but does he realize half of us didn’t even try at Hogwarts that much?” Draco stated, as he twirled his wand in his fingers again. 

“I mean, we,” he pointed to himself and the two sitting before him, “Have a lot of good dueling skills because our parents encouraged it. I was in training by the time I could walk, but I doubt Pansy or Crabbe will have much to go off besides some weak stupefies and jinxes. In Crabbe’s case, that might be hoping too much actually.” 

“And are you forgetting what they did to fix that problem back during the first war? Your own dad pleaded the Imperius to get out of Azkaban, I’m sure they won’t hesitate to use it again,” Blaise looked over at Draco. His wand immediately fell to the floor. 

“But you’re right Draco, the Slytherin kids really are the runt of the litter. The D.A. all joined the Order,” Theo said. “If they get Hogwarts up and running, it’s to make soldiers.” 

Soldiers. The sound of it made Draco cringe. He recalled the D.A.; a lot of the other students now had a much better arsenal than Draco gave them credit for because of Dumbledore’s Army, but they had also never been on a battlefield with scummy death eaters before. 

And like Theo said, many would take the mark; it was only a matter a time before there was a hefty following of young death eaters training away. It made his anger boil to know they’d look just like him, that they’d want to be branded. 

He knew the mess he had become after being dragged through this life; would others crumble too? The idea of violence and brokenness seemed unending. All the pieces wouldn’t be easy to put back together. Blaise’s words came back to him again, “it meant something for you to come here Draco.” Fuck… I hate Blaise and his stupid good morals.

He remembered how he felt that night after the mark had been branded on his skin; he felt like he had signed his life to them without even touching the pen. He was forced to do a lot of things because of it, things he was far from proud of now. 

Draco didn’t know why, but having the mark made things so much worse. He hated it. And then to be herded into training and manipulating kids to torture and kill? That was taking things to a new level, a scary one at that. And it made Draco feel all wrong.

Whether it was because somewhere deep inside him he knew it was wrong or because he was scared of the consequences, he would have to face the facts. He would have that tattoo forever and it would soon be a symbol of something much bigger than himself. It was a permanent reminder also that, at one point in his life, he had actually believed his father. 

“This is… surreal,” Blaise said slowly, digesting the information. Draco looked like a statue when Blaise looked over to him. “I mean, I knew it would escalate, but this is brutal. To turn children into killers and torturers and saying it’s okay, that this prejudice is moral and right?! That’s fucked up.”

“Hey, we don’t all turn out bad,” Draco’s statement oozed with sarcasm once again. It did little to diffuse the tension.

“Yeah, sure you’re perfectly fine, charming even,” Blaise’s eyes practically disappeared into his hair. “But mentally we won’t talk about how fucked up you really are because of it, you’re too stubborn to admit it anyway. Do you see why this is turning into such a big deal? Why I continuously hound you?” Blaise looked at Draco seriously. 

“Shut it Blaise, I’ve had enough of your good slander on my reputation today thank you,” Draco spat and he turned away. But Draco did know what Blaise meant and it was good to hear him say that after all the anger he had given him today. 

Draco knew that deep down, he was beyond glad he had a friend like Blaise. “And yes, okay I get it,” Draco mumbled. “No one wants our friends or a bunch of kids made into soldiers, including myself. I’m probably part of the reason they need to recruit. It would take six of the other kids our age to match my skill set.” His words made Blaise scoff. 

“It’s still pretty bad though mate, it’s really not funny. Things are only going to get worse,” Theo stated solemnly. The intensity of the statement reverberated against the walls, pushing in on them like a suffocating gas. This was only the beginning.

“Sorry…” Draco whispered, but his reply felt loud in the empty room. Blaise got up and started to pace. He looked like he wanted to punch a wall. As the reality sunk in deeper, nothing could distract them. 

They showed Theo his new room and left him to unpack; Blaise and Draco retired to their own rooms respectfully. It was a restless night for all three of them. Thoughts of war wouldn’t leave Draco’s mind and he was starting to wonder if he’d ever be able to have some peace. As his eyes finally gave up a fighting battle to stay awake, he knew deep down that things were changing. And he was scared. 

…

An alarm went off with an annoying ring throughout his large bedroom. On the huge wooden frame, Draco rolled over as the sound penetrated his ears through the covers. He dreaded the stupid muggle contraption that Blaise had insisted he get used to using this year; it was one of the only things besides breakfast or sex that got him out of bed on time. 

For obvious reasons, Blaise wasn’t about to submit to either of those things. So the alarm clock, which had a secret anti-breakage charm on it, was set dangerously close to the window on Draco’s bedside and rang insistently.

He waved a lazy hand to turn it off and groaned as he rolled over. It was the first day of muggle schooling and he was not looking forward to it at all. After all their talk last night of war and preparations, schoolwork was the last thing any of them wanted to do. 

Hogwarts had been different, he rather enjoyed learning a lot of the things the magic world had to offer. As he showered and searched his wardrobe for the least ugly sweatshirt Blaise had gotten for him at the bookstore he thought about the wizarding school they'd left behind.

Charms had always been his favorite, he was good at it because he was creative. Alchemy was in demand his last year there, so he took it because he had room in his schedule. He had been surprised to like it as much as he had.

He pulled the gray and maroon sweatshirt over his head letting his blonde hair fall in his eyes. He frowned as he looked at himself in the mirror. Maroon. Stupid Gryffindor… he thought as he left his room. 

Alchemy had actually come naturally to him, manipulating the elements was an interesting subject. He was quite sad he wouldn’t get to take it for a second term. He was pretty sure he'd never have another term at any wizarding school again for that matter, and that was actually sort of sad. 

It felt far less than four years since they’d set foot inside a Hogwarts classroom. He looked once more in the mirror before sauntering down the staircase in agitation at the start of his first muggle day. With a loud sigh he stepped out into the sunlight on their front steps. 

“You're not even going to bring a school bag? It's the first day," Blaise pointed out loudly from the sidewalk, adjusting the cuff of his blazer. But Draco just walked down the steps not paying attention.

"You’re as charming as ever Blaise, really. Now why do you care so much? You know I’m not going to take notes anyway, I’m just going to cheat on the exams with magic," he stated simply. With that he put his hands in his pockets and strode off ahead. Blaise just shook his head and jogged to catch up.

“We’ve got a full day ahead of us in case you didn’t look at your schedule yet, which, I know you didn’t so,” breathed Blaise once he caught up. They stopped at the end of the road at the bus stop.

“Ah, you know me well,” said Draco before Blaise could continue. He offered a smile and changed the subject. “So where’s Theo? He doesn’t have to be rudely awakened at this disturbing hour, how did he get so lucky?” 

“He’s been on campus for an hour already mate, he had to go fill out a bunch of paperwork for the administration. I don’t know, but he’ll be with us in economics later. We’ve got lit first, then econ, and then you and Theo can go find something constructive to do because I got calculus until 4,” Blaise continued. 

Draco tuned him out, making a note to find something ‘constructive’ to do with Theo. We could probably practice some quidditch in that old field… If that didn’t work or Theo had work to do, he could run off to the library and get a book to pass the time.

“You know,” Draco cut off Blaise mid explanation of what calculus even was, “don’t expect me to get up this early every day, it’s quite miserable and I’m not about these early mornings, I have better things to do.” 

“I won’t allow you not to get up this early, we have 8ams every day,” Blaise rolled his eyes as the bus stopped in front of them. “You can’t escape everything just by ignoring it Draco, you really can’t.”

Draco abruptly stopped climbing the stairs of the bus and turned to place his face right in front of Blaise’s. “Your nagging is really starting to be a fucking drag. I know what you actually mean by that statement. I agreed to fucking get used to the muggles and try to lighten up a bit so I suggest you desist or I’ll hex you so hard you’ll wake up with a muggle chewing on your cock, and not in a good way.” 

Blaise frowned and Draco turned. “And then you’ll really have something to run your mouth about,” And with that, he got on, leaving Blaise in a disgruntled air of annoyance. Draco had enough on his mind without Blaise’s constant nagging; his head was still reeling with the thoughts of last night’s conversation. 

When Blaise boarded, Draco was in the back standing, a sneer of distaste smeared across his mouth. Blaise approached him and stood in an empty area, the bus being heavily crowded from the previous stops. 

This was the public bus, not the university-run one, and Draco’s insides began to twitch as he surveyed the people aboard. There were plenty of students, but there were also some rather interesting looking muggles, a few of which seemed to come from the furthest reaches of human grotesqueness. 

Blaise flinched beside him because of a sudden outcry of a particularly creepy looking muggle who appeared to be talking to himself and had just lost his own argument. Draco leaned in to Blaise, looking even more annoyed as he stated, “On second thought, keep nagging, I’d rather listen to that any day than these fucking creeps.”


	4. An Interesting First Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first days of school and Hermione just can't seem to stop thinking about magic and that annoying blonde from the party while Draco reads muggle books and contemplates at least flirting with muggles.

Hermione was smiling as she made breakfast for Erin, who often overslept and ended up skipping the meal completely in a rush to get to class on time. But, it being the first day, Hermione had gotten up early in order to get all her things ready. 

She was almost too excited for the first day. Despite her dislike of most of society for never feeling like she belonged, in the classroom she could at least excel. And that made her feel quite good about herself. 

Her classes were mostly English classes, which meant loads of time sitting in the library reading novels and furiously taking notes; her favorite pastime. Plus, this year she was a teacher's assistant to Professor Sterns. Hermione had taken "Classical Poetry" with him and he sure made her go above and beyond in any writing analysis she had done. He led his class lectures unconventionally and most times you left the class with more questions than answers. 

His assistant position, he only offered one, was one of the most competitive and coveted spots at the University. After turning in her final paper last semester, he had told her he hoped to see her application in the pile. She figured why the hell not. He called her the next day to ask if she’d accept. 

Hermione finished the pancakes she was making and placed a couple in a container for Erin. She’d tie it to her door knob on the way out. Hermione glanced at her planner sitting open on the table by the sink. She had to meet her freshman mentee midweek for coffee. She had almost forgotten, and would have felt bad blowing the girl off.

As Hermione cleaned up, she thought on and on about classes and meetings and homework, the start of school. As she put away ingredients a residue of white flour lay across the counter. As she wiped it into the sink, the white flour swirled and she was instantly reminded of snow white blonde hair. 

That jerk from the party. She thought instantly; his haughty attitude and sharp lines flashed through her mind and she was instantly annoyed. Ugh no, no more! she thought to herself as she turned the stove off and threw the bowl into the sink with much more force than needed. 

She had spent her restlessness last night thinking about his stupid smug face and she would not permit it to ruin her amazing first day. She had better things going for her and she knew it. She began packing her bag up for the day, determined to forget him once and for all.

When she got to campus she stopped for coffee, spending more time than usual talking to the older lady that worked there. She was a regular here and had asked about the lady's summer; she'd always found it important to get to know even the most subtle people in your life if they were kind to you.

However, she now had to hurry through the halls, as she was late to the one class she shouldn’t be late to: Sterns’. Even just being the assistant, she knew he’d be unhappy seeing her waltz in coffee in hand. 

She hadn't had a class this big since her first year here, so she had forgotten just how many students were in the class. They were all just quieting down and there was still a small rustle of book bags and pens.

Sterns was already starting to explain his expectations when she sat down. She grabbed a chair by the door, not wanting to make a scene, but he nodded to her nonetheless when she looked up. A few students noticed her, realizing what her position must be, and went back to furiously taking notes. 

She found a syllabus on the seat next to her and grabbed it. Nothing new, she thought looking it over; it was pretty straight forward, his classes were all set up the same: 2 papers, a final paper, and a few short analyses here and there. She would be in charge of holding office hours for extra help; some students would automatically be recommended to go, so she’d have to be there no matter what every week. 

She looked around the large room at the students, mostly heads down and writing. She couldn’t wait for their first paper to be given back. Hermione had been astonished by her final analysis in the end, because he showed her just how much she expanded and improved. She looked forward to helping other students feel the same way about their work. 

As she scanned the seats, she saw an eager girl in the second row and a young boy next to her, both looking hard and narrow at Sterns. They were trying to hide their enthusiasm for the literature they'd be covering this year. 

Sterns was in the middle of explaining that it was an Comparative Literature class, covering certain classics like Taming of the Shrew and Great Expectations. Hermione had read only a few in high school and now, in Sterns class, but it was going to be fun seeing other's opinions on the books. 

Her mind wandered to her office and desk, and she pictured herself grading papers on a rainy afternoon with a cup of coffee. It was beautiful. Her gaze became vacant as she was lost in her own thoughts of books and red pens fresh on white paper. 

Blinking a few times to bring herself back to the present, her eyes focused in on the first noticeable object in the room. She almost spit her coffee back out. There, on the other side of the room was a head of white blonde hair opposite where she sat. That’s it. Just my luck.

In the back row, next to the pretty boy Blaise was the pretentious boy in all his glory, lounging back in his chair like he hadn’t a care in the world. His feet were up on the next row, much to the disgrace of a disgruntled girl in front of him, and he was drinking a coffee carelessly. 

He had no notebook or syllabus in front of him, only a small paper owl that, while quite adorable, also had writings on the wings that looked very much like the grading scale for the class. Hermione narrowed her eyes at his obvious disregard for Sterns’ credentials in academia. 

She quickly thought about her not so conspicuous entrance and wondered if he had seen her come in. From where she was seated, he might have missed her. Maybe I’ll luck out and this class will be too difficult for him, she considered to herself. He’ll whine when he sees the red marks on his paper then drop the class in a childish fury. 

It made her feel better to justify her own anger with his lack of writing skills, even if she had no proof of them yet. As she relished in her premier writing skills, that she figured she had every right to gloat about, she analyzed him. 

A pair of sunglasses were perched in his blonde hair and his school spirited sweatshirt fit him well; if only he gave a little effort to appear studious, he would look like an ad for the university. His shoulders were slouched back and Hermione had to fight to stop her insistent thoughts about him. 

Sterns loudly cleared his throat, and Hermione was pushed right back into reality. She quickly faced right forward, trying her hardest to pay attention to his every word. He always made a throat clear when he found more than half the room nodding off; it must have been that time and she was a culprit too. 

She started paying attention again so it would get her mind off those crazy thoughts she'd just had. She was angry he was still finding a way into her life. While it was not exactly his fault that she happened to be a teaching assistant for his particular class, it was still an irritatingly stupid coincidence. She stared at him again, her eyes flashing. 

Malfoy leaned forward to whisper something to Blaise who smacked him in the arm. Blaise looked at him disapproving. At least someone shared her taste for knowledge and respect. I still don’t understand how they’re friends, she thought.

She decided she needed to just ignore his presence in order to avoid detection so she didn’t have to have another fight with him. She spent the rest of the class staring straight ahead at the board. Sterns began covering some history for background of their first novel. 

When the class finally came to an end, she couldn’t help herself from glancing to his seat, which she found had already been long vacated, even before Sterns fully said “dismissed.”

.......

Draco waltzed out of the classroom, much to Blaise’s dismay, with an air of vanity that did not go unnoticed by a vast majority of people in the room. A few girls’ eyes seemed to linger in his absence, almost in a hopeful sort of way. 

Draco however, definitely felt the eyes on him. A smile came to his lips as he pushed open the nearest door. He placed his sunglasses back on and went down the steps to the quad. It was the end of the week and he was happy to be done with classes. 

Draco had already gotten himself another coffee when Blaise found him again. Blaise had waited in line to introduce himself to the professor, so it took him some time before he made it to the quad and even longer, for him to spot Draco.

“Why does it always surprise me when I actually see a book in your hands even though it has happened quite frequently?” he called up to Draco, who he found atop the wall that blocked in the garden around the grand fountain. In Draco’s hands was a large book open to a random page. He was reading interestedly. 

Draco smiled and raised up his cup. “Honestly mate, I didn’t even know you knew where to look for a book until the first time I caught you. Almost spit out my fire whiskey,” Blaise chided, wondering if it would get a rise out of him. 

Yet despite his disregard to muggle schoolwork, Draco had always seemed to sneak books out of the library out of sight of Madam Pince. She would have been shocked, both by someone stealing a free book and by who it happened to be. But he didn’t want people to think he actually enjoyed reading. 

Very few people besides Blaise knew and he liked to keep it that way. It wasn’t his fault Blaise had snuck out with some upperclassman girl and gotten drunk and tried to sneak her back. It was two in the morning and they found Draco asleep in the common room, the book still in his grasp. It was embarrassing as shit. 

But since their current situation did not warrant he put in any real study time and he didn’t care what opinions muggles had of him, he was going to have a lot of free time. Might as well start up again, even if it is this muggle garbage. 

“I didn’t even know you remembered that Blaise, I’m rather impressed actually,” Draco said over the top of the book. “What color was her underwear too? Come on, you must know.” Draco smiled. 

“They were blue. Now, what is it then, give us a look,” Blaise snatched the book from Draco’s hand. Draco’s mouth straightened.

“Keats? Are you serious, is this is a muggle book?” he said, unable to prevent his laughter. “You definitely stole this.” 

“I didn’t know it was a muggle book, when I acquired it-“ Draco fought back.

“No, you knew it was muggle, we’re in a fucking muggle university you twat,” Blaise countered again. 

“Okay, so I did steal it, but it’s not like the idiot will even know. Used a cloaking charm, quite easy to slide it from their bag actually. And you should be happy it’s a muggle book, it’s like I’m at least attempting to acclimate myself,” Draco explained, as if it were an obvious thing for him to have done. 

“Merlin, why do I even bother taking your wand anymore is beyond me,” Blaise tossed the book at Draco rather hard. Draco caught it with ease, but looked concerned as he started checking his pockets. 

“You took my-?” Draco looked incredulous realizing his wand was indeed missing. He raised his eyebrows in a sense of disregard to its absence. “Whatever, you can keep my wand if you’d like, I don’t need it,” Draco sounded condescending.

It was a sore spot between them; wandless magic had come naturally to Draco, something about old pure blood magic he figured. But Blaise had never quite gotten it down and he was annoyed with Draco’s ease with the skill. 

“Or maybe, I should remind you more often how good I’ve gotten without my wand…” As Draco spoke, he let go of his book for a second to flick his finger, which caused Blaise’s backpack to fall to the ground in front of him, books scattered. Blaise looked down in annoyance once again. 

“Do I have to remind you we’re in public? At a muggle university? In hiding?” Blaise articulated each phrase. He irritatedly gathered his bag, placing it back on the wall neatly and stacking up the books. When he finished, he sat on the bench and removed a notebook, writing fast without another word to Draco. 

“Oh come off it, I was just having some fun. Not like anyone would have actually seen that. Was just a little play, that’s all,” Draco stated, flipping through his book once again trying to find the page he was on. 

He wasn’t sure if he’d liked the book because he still wasn’t sure how he felt about the muggle author. This Keats was quite the love sick teenager when he was writing, and it wasn’t exactly Draco’s taste. 

After a while, he found his place again. He figured he had to at least give this Keats fellow a chance if he was going to pass the time with only muggle books. And it would only help his reputation if he acted like the student he was at Hogwarts. 

He had been in the top of his class there and he knew with a little magic to help him he could easily do the same here. He was cunning enough to cheat the system even if it was only for muggle achievement, if there was ample competition. He doubted there would be.

He sat for a few more minutes before Blaise gathered his stuff to leave for his calculus class. “Don’t do anything stupid,” was all he said as he walked away, leaving Draco still atop the wall, a nasty sneer lingering on his face.

...

It was the end of the week and Hermione sat, collecting her books after Sterns’ class. She was furious at the fact she found herself searching for that sneer amongst the faces of the students she saw leaving the lecture hall every day this week. 

She had been looking around quite quickly, but not quickly enough apparently, for the boy was nowhere in sight once again. He always seemed to disappear before anyone else could actually get up. Maybe that was a good thing though, for Hermione’s temper at least. 

As she did a final survey of the room on her way out the door, she spotted Blaise, and she smiled. He made a curt nod to her and then shouldered his bag and left. At least there was still a handsome face to admire, she thought to herself as she glanced at the clock. If she stayed around any longer she’d be late to meeting her mentee. 

She went across the library garden to the café. It was a small little shop with only a walk-up window. There were a large cluster of tables and chairs outdoors for nice weather. Since it had been a gorgeous fall day, there weren’t many open if any and Hermione looked around. She was supposed to meet up with her mentee here. The girl’s class got out ten minutes before Hermione’s, so she had said she would save them a table. 

Most of the tables were already cluttered with study materials, which even for Hermione, was quite an absurd amount for only the first week. Amidst the clutter she soon spotted a girl seated by herself with a cup of coffee and a muffin, a sea of red hair gleaming in the light on her shoulders. Hermione was instantly struck with a sense of déjà vu.

Is that- it’s the girl I saw on the first day! The one that… that did the thing with her bag and… even in her own thoughts she didn’t want to admit to herself what she saw or thought she saw. It couldn’t be what she thought, that she possibly saw magic. 

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head of the thoughts. She’s just a freshman, she’s harmless, and she HAS to be my mentee, she’s the only person alone, Hermione told herself in confidence. Hermione walked up to the tables and weaved her way towards the girl. 

“You stole my table,” Hermione commented upon approaching, making her words sound casual despite their accusation. She hoped this joke could break the ice well enough. She took the seat opposite the girl, who Hermione could now see close up. 

Her face was pretty with fiery eyes and a splash of freckles along her high cheeks. Her red hair really looked like flames around her and it suited her, Hermione quickly took note, as she spoke. 

“And who the bloody hell are you anyway,” the girl chimed back, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t see a name anywhere,” and she gestured to the table in between them. 

“Oh!” Hermione said taken aback. “I was kidding actually, I’m Hermione. I think I’m your-“ she had started to say, before the girl cut her off with a grin. 

“Mentor! I know, I figured. I didn’t mean to scare you there,” the girl added with apology, “it’s just, you’re like the fifth person to try to take this bloody table from me! You’d think it was made out of galleons or erm gold or something…” 

She seemed to stumble a bit on her words. It was a curious thing but maybe she was just nervous, Hermione thought. “Are students always this competitive for table space here, or is it a special occasion?” the girl asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Really, the best ones are by far in the library. East wing has extra staircases in the back that not many people know about,” Hermione stated, setting her bag next to her and unzipping her jacket. 

“It’s kind of a secret spot, like in old castles and dungeons, at least that’s what the boy who told me said. He was a history major and I forced him to tell me during finals week freshman year because I was freaking out and needed a better place to study,” Hermione took out a notebook casually. The girl quirked an eyebrow.

“What can I say, the library gets packed beyond belief and I can get a little psycho about my grades so,” She smiled telling the memory and the girl laughed.

“That’s actually hilarious. So I take it you’re super smart then. Perfect. I’m Ginny by the way,” the girl added and held her hand out. “I’m also used to living with 6 brothers, so excuse me if I’m a little, uh, on the harsh side sometimes. My sarcasm has a way of getting away from me.”

“Oh no worries, my best friend’s a wildcard, not to mention all the crazy girls she brings home with her, so it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Hermione said, taking her hand and shaking it. 

“It’s nice to meet you in person. So, how’s the first week treating you here?” Hermione inquired, waiting for the girl’s reply. 

“Well, I did find this university vastly different from my original one, shitty if you ask me,” Ginny said, looking around briefly at all the people nearby studying. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I hadn’t realized you’re a transfer. And what do you mean, shitty? Have you looked around at this place?! It’s practically a castle, how can you not like it?” Hermione asked, incredulous. 

“Well, that’s just it; my last school WAS a castle. Well, it was in a castle,” Ginny said. “You can see why this could be, uh unimpressive?” She sounded like she was searching for a gentler word than she originally came up with.

Hermione tried to think of which university was actually located IN a castle. After a minute she came up blank and decided to just look it up later. She looked at Ginny earnestly. 

“Well then! Let me give you the grand ole spiel about why this University is the premiere academy of the well-educated British nobility and has been ranked seven times in the UK’s most competitive top ten lists of graduates!” Hermione said as if she were suddenly spitting out tour guide pamphlets from her mouth. 

The redhead across from her leaned in on her elbows. She appeared to be intrigued in the school, but Hermione could see a hint of jest in her expression and her voice when she said, “Oh do tell me you had to memorize all of that, or I’ll piss myself if you did so on your own!”

“No interruptions, now let’s get started!” Hermione began in false introduction, “So: there’s plenty of your basic clubs, intramural sports, club sports teams, community service groups, then there’s the university sports teams, but you have to try out for those, let’s go Lions!” she did a fake cheer.

Ginny laughed. “Come off it, they actually try to convince people to go here by telling them they can join a club and go to a football game? Times are really hitting hard, huh?” 

Hermione smiled. She felt instantly comfortable with this girl, and it felt good to not have to put on an act like she thought she was going to have to (besides this little game of tour guide shit she was doing). 

“Well no, obviously that’s not totally what gets people to come. A lot of people are on scholarship, like myself, and the academics are some of the best in Europe,” Hermione mentioned in her real voice again. 

“Well while schoolwork seems amazingly great and all, what actual things are fun around here? Like I bet you are president of like five clubs just because there’s nothing to do here,” Ginny said then. 

Hermione thought about what else there was and her mind was brought back to partying. The school’s messy social scene came to her mind in a foggy haze as a reminder of the weekend. 

Ginny was a genuine girl and made her opinions well known. She wasn’t interested in clubs and research papers; she was interested in having fun and it seemed like she had already accepted that university wasn’t all it was talked up to be. 

Hermione liked that about the girl, and was happy to realize she didn’t actually want help with the typical mentoring crap like how to make friends and help on homework assignments. Although, she would help if that was the case. 

“If you must know, I’m only on the board of two clubs and I only really like one of them, so you aren’t too far off,” Hermione said, “But I did sleep with the student association president so I could have more funds to work with.” 

She laughed and Ginny looked rather impressed. “What, it’s not like anyone wants to see the hula hoop club do the same dance to twist and shout for the sixth semester in a row, they could use a little less money.” 

At this Ginny burst out laughing. She had to admit, this girl was right up her alley: witty and sarcastic but still clever. It was refreshing and reminded her a lot of, unfortunately, Harry. His knack for choice words in the right situations was admirable and this girl had a similar sense of humor. 

Ginny hated the idea of the mentor program at first, but now she thought she could make this friendship happen. Besides, Ginny and Luna were alone here and it would be valuable to have some friends on this side of the situation that was starting to brew back home. 

“You’re lying! That is too good though, must make things easier for your clubs, probably won all the awards that year!” Ginny winked. 

“Well, surprisingly for the president of student ‘affairs’ he is quite bad with affairs of the intimate sort…” Hermione mentioned as she recalled her confusion at his blatant awkwardness. It was worth it to give the local charity the proper benefit event this year anyway, she thought. She shrugged and continued.

“Anyway, a lot of the clubs are exclusive and hold tons of parties on weekends, but I find the sports teams’ ones are better,” Hermione said, finding that she couldn’t avoid recalling her not so proud escapades of the first weekend back. 

It felt fresh in her mind because she hadn’t spotted the inane little ferret after class today. Every other day this week he had strutted out like he was a king and it annoyed her to no end. She really hadn’t wanted to turn into a time bomb, ready to explode with anger whenever she saw his vile, arrogant face. But if he started something, by hell she would end it. 

Her nose crinkled up at the thought of him causing Ginny to cock her head to the side.

“Oh, sorry! I, the parties are a lot of fun really! I just, I met this complete jerk this weekend and thought I wouldn’t have to deal with him ever again but, we have class together. Annoying really, but it’s fine!” Hermione cleared up, I’m not even going to let myself go there. He’s stupid. 

“Oh boy, well what did he do? Was he a perv, did he try to come on to you? Boys when they drink get so handsy,” Ginny said eagerly. She looked off into space and smiled slyly, like she was remembering some welcome advance from some guy at her old school.

She listened to Hermione continue on for the next fifteen minutes or so. Hermione explained the houses on the West Side, where all the parties were and she explained all that happened last weekend. She didn’t give full details about what the boy said to her, just an explanation of his attitude problem was enough. 

“What a complete arse, reminds me of some kids I knew at school. No one liked them, not even the teachers in their house- er, their advisors. Anyway never mind take me with you to the next time, I love a good fight,” Ginny stated in a very brave sort of way. Hermione got the feeling she talked like this a lot. It was refreshing to see such a strong young woman. 

“Well, that can definitely be arranged, are you free tonight? A few of my girlfriends are coming over, and Erin will be her normal drunk self. It’ll be loads of fun!” Hermione gushed suddenly. It was time she showed Ginny the real fun at this place. 

“That sounds awesome actually. Can I bring Luna, she’s so nice, you’ll love her, she’s my roommate!” Ginny asked, excitedly. 

“Of course. The more, the merrier! Now, why don’t you tell me about your old school then? Why was it so much better?” Hermione changed the subject back to school. 

If Hermione were honest, she was more curious about the girl than she let on. Despite appearing as a normal college girl, Ginny spoke with a few strange phrases here and there that made her seem completely backwards. It was like she was from another place or time, saying things that didn’t quite sound right. 

Maybe it’s all in my head because I’m remembering the magic? Oh I don’t know… Hermione thought, trying to pay attention to the now chatterbox in front of her. It wasn’t really magic, remember...

“Oh it was loads better than here! We had a huge black lake and this forest that we weren’t allowed to go in and…” Ginny continued explaining about the school that sounded like something out of a storybook. 

She talked of towers for classrooms and huge staircases. She talked about the dormitories that everyone stayed in that felt like home. Hermione was lost in Ginny’s recollection; it felt like something from a dream, like something Hermione had thought up when she was little.

Ever since Hermione had figured out about her own magic, she had always dreamed of a place where she belonged, where she would go to a magical place and learn wondrous things. Now as an adult, reality presented itself to her in the form of a university and a degree she liked. 

But the more she heard from Ginny, the more she felt that Ginny talked as if her old school were that ‘magical place.’ Hermione didn’t feel that way about this place; she liked it yes, she had some friends, but there was still a tiny place in her heart that felt hollow.

She pushed these thoughts aside however. This isn’t about me, it’s about mentoring this girl! So she fits in here! Hermione reminded herself. She vacated the thoughts from her mind and continued to listen about the wonders of Ginny’s old school. 

When Ginny seemed to stop and think, Hermione got the courage to speak up. “So, if it was so grand a place why did you leave, if you don’t mind me asking? I don’t want to pry since we like, don’t really know each other yet but I’m also here to help if you need, kind of my job really,” Hermione was rambling but she couldn’t help it.

“It was cool until things began to change,” Ginny’s voice gave off a slight, melancholic tone then. “My brothers and I, we all went to this uni together, it was a family tradition,” she trailed off, lost in some sad daydream.

“And… And I left because there had been a lot of corruption within the system I guess. And there’s more still going on. One or two violent protests and my mum thought it best to get on out… It was probably smart you know,” Ginny explained, and while she talked her voice became steady. 

“It’ll pass, it should pass. I wanted to participate. I felt very strongly with the positions people were rallying for. But my mum is such a fuss, probably why I’m so stubborn,” Ginny chuckled. 

“Anyway, there’s a lot of us wanting to put an end to all of it so, there’s that. I’m going to try to be optimistic and help out best I can from here but we’ll see how that goes. And if that doesn’t work there’s got to be some kind of distraction here, I just know it,” Ginny finished, looking intent. 

Her spirits were as quick changing as stoplights, but Hermione could tell the girl was sincere and hopeful. And she was looking to Hermione for help, maybe even friendship. If that’s what she needed to lighten her spirits, then Hermione was willing to help. 

But why hadn’t I heard of all this protesting then, especially if it had turned violent… Hermione told herself to check the news that night, and to start being more vigilant. 

“Well, I’m sorry to hear all that. I’m sure you’ll find less scary stuff here, there’s a nice relationship between administration and faculty and students,” Hermione recalled never having a bad experience with a teacher. “And I’m sure you’ll find in no time that you fit in here just the same! At least, that’s my goal anyway!” 

“Ha, well I would like that very much. You are doing an excellent job, in case you were wondering,” Ginny said as she stood. “I have one more class just now, but I’m holding you to that party, quick give me your address!” 

Hermione jotted down her address on the notebook and tore it out. When she handed it over, Ginny grinned. “Ugh, I cannot wait!” She waved and then disappeared inside the doors of the nearest building. Hermione was left at the table alone. 

She thought about the girl she had just met; it felt that she was already friends with Ginny for months now, not hours. Well, that went well, she actually was a doll. I want to know so much more about that school of hers too… 

Hermione just couldn’t put a finger on just why she felt so intrigued. She pushed away the teeny, tiny ray of hope that came to her mind about Ginny possibly doing magic that first day. She wouldn’t judge this friendship on that.

In any case, it had been a marvelous start to the beginning of the school year. New friends might just make this year more bearable. She strode off shouldering her large bag to get in line for another coffee before heading to her next class.

… 

Draco’s boredom with Keats was really starting to weigh in. He was sitting in a particularly bendy tree that he had found the second day, the tattered volume clutched in one hand. 

Blaise was nowhere in sight and Theo had told him he had to check in with a professor today, so Draco was on his own after his lit class. He was significantly further into the book than before, but he hadn’t made an effort to find the library yet. He was stuck with the annoyingly repetitive poet’s love-struck words. 

The more Draco thought about it, the more he understood why he disliked the man. He closed the book, suddenly irritated by the romance Keats talked about. Not that love hadn’t ever sparked his interests, no. There was that time with Pansy that he thought there could be something there. That was back in fourth year… 

Yeah, but then she made out with both Flint and Marcus in the same night so like, really, your aspirations on love aren’t exactly great… he thought to himself, recalling that disaster. 

And he’d only been freshly a teenager at that point. It hurt a lot but that was nothing compared to a real heartbreak, if he’d ever know one. He doubted he had. Draco felt like if he had ever been in love, he’d have known it by now. 

Well, for lack of relationship keeping he sure did make up for it in the bedroom; he’d seen more Ravenclaw girls without their clothes on than with them on. And the Slytherin girls weren’t far behind, although some of them were quite smart to try to win his favor first. That sometimes worked, he remembered, recalling how he did take worthy enough girls on dates to Hogsmeade and the like.

There were even a few girls that tried too hard for his attention come sixth year, where he had found two different girls wearing hardly anything on two separate occasions; one in his bed come Christmas break, a bow over her very nice breasts. And the other, a rather sly girl, actually managed to surprise him in the shower. Sly or daft, I don’t think I’ll ever know… 

Fuck when did I last get a shag in? It’s been ages it feels… Draco thought then. He looked around the quad in front of him searching for something pretty to look at. Maybe one of the muggle girls around here would actually be worth looking at for longer than it took to shoot her an insult. He doubted but looked anyway.

As he searched around, his mind wandered back to Pansy. She had been quite the pretty little thing, despite her nagging, high pitched voice. He remembered when he’d finally hooked up with her, after the Yule Ball in fifth year. A group of the Slytherins in his grade had stolen some fire whiskey from the kitchens and got drunk in a back dungeon. She looked much better when her voice wasn’t reeling on about things he couldn’t care less about. 

It had been a fun night, but it was clear Pansy wanted more when Draco didn’t. There were plenty of other fish in the sea better than Pansy that he went after, but when he didn’t feel like trying she would gladly come to his bed, any time. She was that girl for him but now, even having her would have suited him alright. 

His mind wandered back to the present, his body still remembering escapades with Miss. Parkinson. There was a half-blood girl in Ravenclaw once who had been great in bed, better than Pansy even, and he considered making her his go-to. 

Why have I never considered a muggle girl though? It literally has never crossed my mind, isn’t that something? He thought of his childhood; he never knew anything but hate for muggles. 

Yet here he was, sitting around near them, studying with them, partying with them, watching muggle girls ogle at him even. What did that even mean? 

His eyes were still scanning the gardens before him for good looking girls or anything interesting at this point, when he caught sight of a familiar face. His eyes darted back, almost too suddenly. 

Fucking bitch, he thought as he scrutinized the girl from the party standing in line for coffee near the library. And there it was again, an insult. Why is that my immediate reaction? 

She warranted quite a lot of anger from him without doing much. Maybe that was why he was so quick to insult her; it didn’t really have much to do with her blood status, did it? Whatever, she’s still a cunt and Blaise is putting thoughts into my mind that AREN’T mine… 

She stood with her hips cocked to the side, no doubt trying to shift the weight of her bag so it didn’t break. It appeared beaten up, like it had seen the weight of many texts. As she waited, he saw her take a volume, open to a random page and start reading. She could easily maneuver the queue of the line despite her interest in the book, and a faint smile was hanging on her lips. Bet she thinks she’s so smart, reading while waiting in line, pft! Anyone can do that. I can, I read. 

The more he stared, the less insults he could come up with in his head. His eyes followed down her slender figure and the smear of memories from the previous weekend blurred his vision. He recalled only snippets after that sixth or seventh large glass of rum, and something in the way she was standing reminded him of her dancing. 

Her denim shorts were ripped but they fit her snuggly in all the right places. Draco sucked in air quickly when he noticed her white tank sliding down her shoulder from the weight of her bag. He looked away suddenly, aware of his staring and pissed at himself for it. 

He recalled her fighting back, her crafted insults comparable to his own- that rarely ever happened. It took him by surprise and not a good one, bringing out the fight in him. A muggle couldn’t be on his level, he thought. Could she? 

She clearly had to be somewhat intelligent to be able to talk the way she did to him, he’d give her that. Draco grew frustrated how everything seemed to keep bringing him back to his fucked up view on blood statuses.

On top of that, Draco remembered feeling a bizarre kind of desire at her backlash and that clearly did not settle well in his stomach. He was not ready for that kind of feeling for a muggle, not at all, especially for such a bitch of a girl. Draco glanced back and watched as she shoved her bag further up her shoulder, a spatter of freckles left behind in its wake. In that instant he wanted to know just why she made him tick. 

She finally reached the front of the line and Draco looked away, lest he let his anger take him out of control again. He wanted to approach her. He wanted to walk right up and say something, anything, just to see her flare at him again. And he definitely wanted to prove he could manipulate her, have the upper hand because with all his upbringing, it was a Malfoy trait to do that. And he wasn’t used to not getting his way. 

He jumped out of the tree on impulse, taking a few vengeful steps in her direction. He was still quite far from the coffee line and he paused as he watched her brush her hair off her shoulder. She dropped her money and, in an effort to pick it up without losing her place in her book, she bent over in a sensual sort of way and that was it. 

The sight was too much for Draco who, at that moment, felt the worst thing he could possibly imagine, just below his belt. He flinched at the idea that his body would respond like against his will; his eyes grew wide, considering that it had to be thoughts of Pansy and not getting laid in ages that caused it. There was no way it was because of her. 

From behind him came Blaise’s voice in a sudden shout. “Aye, where are you off to in such a hurry?” As he approached, Draco tensed then halted, still in shock.

“Take it down a notch, it’s like your pure blood instincts were activated or something you actually look murderous,” Blaise said in a quieter tone, judging Draco’s poised stance and the hateful look in his eye.

Draco was suddenly dizzy. What exactly had he been going to do? He shook his head, forgetting he jumped from the tree. He was now standing awkwardly on the cobblestone walkway, staring in the direction of the coffeehouse with an angry scowl. 

Why is this stupid woman still on my mind, Draco thought. How can I let this bother me so much, ugh! 

He must have gotten up to walk over and start a row with her again. He didn’t know what motivated him to approach her. Was it because it might somehow prove he was correct in all his blood purity bullshit and he would get his way over her or was it really from that twitch that reminded him of just how much he wanted sex? He would be disgusted if it were because of the latter.

“Don’t tell me, another muggle piss you off again? We really got to work on your people skills, and by people I’m including muggles alright,” Blaise stated simply and looked around. 

When he spotted her, he knew why Draco was so on edge. “Oi, look at that it’s your favorite little minx Draco. Why don’t you go offer to buy her coffee? She really does have quite the leg on her, no?” Blaise stifled a laugh.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead buying that bitch anything, I’d rather curse her but you know, people around, I have a little self-restraint left,” Draco said firmly, not even addressing the comment Blaise made about her legs. 

He hoped Blaise would buy his bluff; in his mind, his thoughts were still raging against his better judgement. He looked at her legs quickly anyway and hated that Blaise was right. He turned away. 

“You are by far the most annoying stereotype of a pureblood I’ve ever seen,” Blaise said. 

“Yeah, but I can’t help how I was brought up so you have to forgive me, naturally,” Draco drawled, walking with Blaise away from the coffee line. Blaise took a seat on a bench outside the science building as Draco continued to pace.

“No, but that doesn’t mean you have to act a prat. Why don’t you start doing yourself a favor and forgive yourself too. And forgive her. She’s still a person, muggle or no, and you have no idea how she was brought up either,” Blaise mentioned.

“Ugh, that’s just it! I’m so sick of this!” Draco ran his hands through his hair looking frustrated. “I’m trying okay, I’m damn well trying to see things differently. Ever since Theo mentioned all that shit the first night my mind’s been reeling,” he said softly, looking uncomfortable in his vulnerability. 

“Good, you should be trying. As for her though, she’s just a girl. A person. Just like you, just like me,” Blaise said encouragingly but Draco went silent. 

Getting up and actually confronting her would be a pretty bold move on his part. If she had tried to fight back he probably would curse her in his current state. It was a natural instinct. And that wouldn’t bode well for trying to hide. 

But if I don’t curse her, would she put up another whiplash of a retort like before? 

She might impress him with that, he mused, but that was beside the point. Just because he was a little horny didn’t mean he should pick a fight with a muggle just to get off. Had she actually tried to come onto him last weekend, Draco didn’t know what he would have done. 

He had never had to deal with such a situation and he was raised that he shouldn’t. He knew how to manipulate and damage weaker people, not get affection from them. Sure, girls flattered him all the time, in droves behind him like flies, but that was different. They’d all been witches.

Yet if he still wanted girls flocking after him in great numbers, and of course he did, sooner or later he was going to find himself having to make do with what was available. And maybe he’d started to let that happen already on campus… 

Muggle girls. But accepting them and their flattery was different than full on sleeping with them; he had accepted muggle partying, drinking games, and coming to muggle class. He noticed women watching him or sneaking a glance. Blaise’s words came back to him. They were people, just girls. Why was that such a hard concept to accept? Maybe he’d have to start lightening up… 

“Hello, Draco?” He hadn’t heard Blaise calling. “Come on, you’re starting to scare people,” Blaise said then, looking around them. A few people glanced at Draco’s distraught figure still pacing. He stopped then, wondering if there would be any peace for the conflicting thoughts roaming through his mind. 

“Blaise, where did you say Pansy was again?” he asked. Maybe if I get a hold of her she could pay me a little visit, get my mind off things… a wicked smile curled his lips. 

“You look like you want to rail her out this second but I didn’t say I knew where she was actually,” Blaise cocked one eyebrow up knowingly. “I doubt you can get a hold of her amidst all this just for a shag.” 

“Fine, it was just a thought,” Draco stated then, antsy at being denied. 

“There’s still plenty of muggle girls out there, although if you really are looking for one like Pansy you were headed in the right direction,” Blaise joked to Draco, pointing over towards where the coffee line was. They could just see the end of the sitting area. 

“She’s got the same temper but is better at using it, that’s for sure.” Blaise had to dodge Draco then, who lunged furiously, pulling Blaise to the ground. He tackled him and the boys fought for a little while before separating in a huff. 

“Shut your mouth Blaise before I make you! Stop bragging to me about wanting to fuck her. I don’t like her, just drop it before I really do a number on you,” threatened Draco once he’d caught his breath. Blaise straightened his collar looking sullen. “I have enough on my mind without you trying to get me to fuck a muggle for Merlin’s sake!” 

“Okay, okay, fair enough. But you really might want to consider the fact that unless by some crazy means Pansy shows up, you will be out of commission if you don’t want to sleep with a muggle. Just trying to show you the options mate,” Blaise mentioned, as if Draco hadn’t already thought of that. 

“Yeah, yeah…” was all Draco replied. “Don’t you have a calculus class to go fail or something?” he strode off, the anger still fresh on his lips. Once well inside the building nearest to him, he sat against the wall taking a deep breath. Blaise didn’t follow.

Draco sighed. He needed to get a hold of himself. He couldn’t let some foolish muggle girl get to him this way; even if she was by some measure, kind of attractive. The minute the thought came to his mind he gagged; he was mad at himself for admitting she was good looking. 

But Blaise was right; if he didn’t sleep with a muggle, he wasn’t going to be sleeping with anyone. And that fucking blew. Not only did the idea of sleeping with a muggle disgust him, but he felt like he would be shaming his family if he did.

They would disown him for sure if he did, but he wasn’t sure he cared about that so much. It would be a great way to get back at his father for all his bullshit through the years. The thought made him laugh. 

However he still didn’t know what would happen to him physically if he did sleep with one. He was forbidden from taking any muggle studies classes so he actually knew very little besides his parents’ vulgar lies. Blaise had already slept with that girl Jess and he was no less able to use his wand. He wasn’t harmed, diseased, or changed at all, as far as Draco knew. So really, what was the real harm? He wasn’t sure there was one.

Ugh, this is all too much, he thought. He didn’t want to have to be questioning sleeping with muggles. It seemed so beneath him all his life, but now, without his father spitting slanders down his back, he was finally starting to see a change and it scared him. It might not have appealed to him before but he couldn’t deny the subconscious twitch of his groin and how much he was thinking about the curve of her hip. 

Whatever, it’s just attraction, it doesn’t mean I have to act on it, he told himself then. I guess that’s what it means for me to accept muggles a little more, let them flatter me with physical attractiveness, he cringed. 

The only good thing coming from this was how good it made him feel to have girls want him; despite being muggles, he still loved flattery and he had forgotten what it was like. Girls saw him everywhere and they weren’t hiding their second glances. He loved it. 

Draco found these thoughts dueling in his mind. It gave him a headache. Taking a few more deep breaths, he straightened and cleared his throat. 

What am I doing, letting a little muggle get in my way and fuck up my mind? She’s just a girl and a bitch and that’s enough of a reason to hate her, he thought aggressively. It had to stop. I’m a Malfoy, damn it.

Draco agreed to himself that he wouldn’t seek her out and thus wouldn’t succumb to her insults any longer. She didn’t flatter him or beg to be with him, so she wasn’t worthy of his time. 

If I have to put up with muggle women I’ll have them tied around my finger, not running the show for me, he laughed to himself. 

As he walked away, his mind felt better, more settled despite a small flicker of fear that he pushed to the recesses. He decided to find the library after all; it would be a good distraction, always had. 

He made himself a deal as well. He wouldn’t bother with that girl from the party no. Not unless she started something first. Something to flatter him, something worth his time…


	5. A Library Liability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione heads to the library and has an unexpected encounter... will she manage to be okay after or will it have to be fixed with another crazy night out with Ginny and Luna?

Hermione left the classroom happily; the first two weeks had been successful and she had just gotten out of her last class early. What a great start to this school year, she thought to herself as she walked out of the classroom. All of the chattering students around her seemed thrilled to be out early, ready to start the weekend, but Hermione had other plans. 

She glanced at her watch; it was only 3:25pm. That meant she still had about three hours until she was planning to be home to get take-out with Erin. She made a swift turn at the next corridor and set her mind on the library. It would be good to get ahead and make a calendar of all her due dates, office hours, and club meetings; organization being one of her strong points.

As she approached the large, stone building on the north side of campus, she took out her planner. She was glancing at her assignments as she walked inside. The library opened to a large room that towered high above her head in long rows of books. The shelves went back far with a long row of full length windows to the left.

There was a second story balcony of shelves overlooking the front half of the library, with desks to study on. Some, Hermione noticed, were already occupied by students eager to get ahead. She made her way to the back, where she knew her favorite spot would not be taken; the spot she had mentioned to Ginny earlier in the week. 

She made her way quietly, climbing a small staircase to the East wing that appeared to be haphazardly added to the building some years back. She was already mentally planning out which assignments she would start first as she approached her spot. 

It was tucked away in a corner, a small window with a nice sized desk. Hermione had been so fond of it, she had made sure to use a little magic during finals week to keep others away. But now, the spot was occupied for what felt like the first time ever, by none other than the vicious blonde boy whose name she had forgotten. 

She ducked behind a nearby shelf, her anger beginning to rise. Walking down the aisle quietly, she got about halfway before she pulled out a rather thick book to get a closer look. Something about him drew her in, in the same way it had that first day she had seen him from her classroom. 

He was lounging back, his legs draped up on the desk with his back leaning against the window pane. He had a small book in one hand while the other mindlessly twirled a thick strand of his white blonde hair. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his obvious disregard for the proper use of her study spot. His muddy boots were getting dirt on the surface, which would make it impossible for anyone to use unless they wanted to grow plants in their textbooks. 

How inconsiderate, she thought, but the more she stared the more she realized was confused by what she saw. His fingers moved around his hair in a very tempting sort of way and he seemed genuinely interested in the book in his hands. She looked over the stacks nearby him to find an empty space, to get some idea of what he was reading. In seconds she noticed in the K’s section, a small space the size of the volume he had.

Poetry? Really? Hermione couldn’t help but be surprised. The boy she saw before her could not be the same boy from the party, the one who yelled and fought her. He looked peaceful for once in his life and his sharp features defined his deep thought. Hermione was breathless. His pale skin and hair stood out strong against the purpling of the sky behind him. 

He flipped a page and began reading a new poem. This time however, she could feel his annoyance and the air grew stiff. She had only ever seen him two ways, confident and cocky, and then, when she had gotten in his face, angry and vindictive. All she had felt for him before was dislike. She was pissed off whenever she thought about him, but now, a tiny bit of empathy came to her. He looked stressed.

She was confused. It sure was a curious sight to see, him being studious, since she had only ever managed to catch glimpses of him during class. He was always his usual self then. He tossed the book aside suddenly and it brought Hermione out of her thoughts.

He stared out the window biting his nail, his brow creased in annoyance. As she leaned in further, she saw him get up and walk slowly over to where he’d tossed the book. He picked it up slowly, found the page he was in, and dog-eared the page before closing it and tucking it under his arm. 

Hermione went to grab another book off the shelf so she could get a better view of him, but it slipped through her grasp and crashed to the floor. The sound reverberated against the shelves and Draco’s head flashed in her direction. 

She ducked quickly, holding her breath. He looked around, his brow furrowing as he saw the smallest flash of a white tank top behind the shelf nearest him and a splattering of freckles. 

“Who’s there?” he stated firmly. Hermione sat motionless, thankful there were no gaps in the books. Draco took a step forward, closer. He paused for another minute and smiled. Remembering the white tank top from earlier, he thought he knew who it was. 

“I don’t want to play games with a stranger and neither do you. You don’t know me, I don’t play fair,” he warned quietly. He sounded almost seductive and Hermione let out a small gasp; she quickly put a hand to her mouth.

The air hung onto his words for a few seconds before the sound of his boots were heard walking back down the corridor and turning to leave. Hermione waited until she heard the echo of his boots on the stairs disappear before she dared move. 

…

Draco crept slowly through the double doors of the library on top of the hill and looked around. After getting out of his last class for the day and fighting a little more with Blaise over that weird jump he made after that stupid muggle, he needed a distraction. 

The entrance was grand and open, a second floor ran around one side. Back at Hogwarts Draco didn’t dare let on that he cared about literature other than academics, but here it didn’t matter. He could read whenever he wanted because no one knew enough to make fun of him for it. 

Growing up, he was fascinated by old stories of crazy wizards creating new spells and hexes and potions. He liked hearing direct tales of goblin uprisings and old feudal wars with real dragons and giants running wild. It was an easy escape from reality. 

Maybe somewhere in here he would find the same escape with muggle books. At least muggle books wouldn’t have old pureblood shit that always seemed to fuck up magic’s history. It really was bad how often pureblood ways mucked up the wizarding world… 

He climbed the wide, grand staircase. Below, he could see rows of texts and volumes, some haphazardly strewn in piles on tables for studying. To his left and right, additional library wings continued, making the staircases misplaced and awkward. Draco was reminded of the changing staircases in Hogwarts and became a little sad. 

Walking around the balcony silently, it felt good to not have to sneak around. If he were at Hogwarts he would have taken much more caution entering a library. But here, well who fucking cared. I’m throwing everything out the window lately, he sighed to himself. 

He relaxed as he leaned over the railing overlooking the lower library, thinking about Hogwarts and how different this year turned out to be. He missed having time to get lost in a new spell or charm. He missed the owls at breakfast and the cavernous feel of the Slytherin dungeons. 

Things were different now, he sighed. Instead of dungeons and owls, he had deep voiced professors and muggle girls spending too much time batting a lash at him rather than taking notes. And while that sort of did the trick for him in terms of flattery, he missed the magic. 

He turned away from the balcony then and decided to explore. In a far corner of the room, a crooked staircase wound its way up. He decided to take it. When he reached the landing, it appeared to be nothing more than that and a very broken looking shelf.

He was about to climb the next staircase when he saw a flash of light by the wall of the shelf. He almost missed it but once he got closer he realized it was a tight squeeze to a hidden study area beyond. He found four rows of shelves on the other side; they were quite small, the last two with small desks set inside the windows. 

Perfect, he thought, scanning a nearby shelf, coming to a slow stop in the middle of the K section. To his luck, there was another of Keats’ books there and he grabbed it before sitting down at the desk. He figured his best option was to buy some time for himself, forget about all the bullshit floating around with blood status and death eaters and muggles and classes and sex. He would get lost in a book if it were the death of him, just to escape his own thoughts. 

As he flipped through the book, he realized it was a useless effort. Sticking with Keats might have been the wrong choice after all. He was continuously reminded of romance and love with every poem, it didn’t seem to stop. And as he thought of love he thought of sex, and with sex came muggles and Blaise's nagging and he was mad all over again. It was a vicious cycle. 

He threw the book lightly onto the table and glared out the window sullenly. A sound roused him after a minute and he whipped his head around. It had sounded like someone dropping a book and he didn’t feel like being confronted at the moment. 

“Who’s there?” he said aloud, hoping to scare whoever it was away. Maybe it was just a draft; that happened all the time in Hogwarts. He ducked down to try and see between the shelves, a flash of freckles catching his eye. A smirk came to his lips; looks like someone decided to start something… 

…

Hermione was still trying to get her breathing back to normal well after Malfoy had vacated the desk. His threat had made her uneasy. Sure she had already heard many of his flamboyant insults, but there was hidden meaning in his words this time. And Hermione didn’t like that. 

It was so different from the docile man she had just witnessed reading. He was hiding something and it made her even more curious to figure him out. The thoughts rolled around her mind as she got up. 

She wondered if he had stayed in the library or not. She fought the temptation to go look downstairs by getting her books out and sorted, but she soon couldn’t resist. She hurried back towards the center of the library.

As she rounded the corner, she almost collided with a person carrying six large encyclopedias. Luckily, she bolted around them and made her way down the central staircase without much notice. Not that there was any worry; there was only one other student left up on the balcony and their nose was hidden in a book. She slid right towards a large shelf and pretended to search for something. 

She didn’t understand why she was so drawn to him; maybe it was the fact she found him hiding out in a library of all places. She couldn’t resist someone who was into books the way she was. He was probably more intellectual than she originally thought. 

A small portion of her heart reminded her there had to be a little bit of good in everyone. And yet, that didn’t make up for everything else wrong with him. She had to remind herself of that too. 

Suddenly she spotted his slender frame leaning against the front desk and her thoughts quieted. He was actually having a charming conversation with the librarian and Hermione’s jaw opened in disbelief. 

She crept closer, wanting to see if she could get close enough to eavesdrop. She rounded the far end of the desk, grabbed a novel from the nearest display, and took a seat at a table opposite where the librarian stood. She made a fumbling sort of sound to which the librarian looked over, but Malfoy didn’t notice. She was safe. 

Propping up the book to hide her face, she watched. He looked much more relaxed at the moment, speaking with his hands as the librarian smiled at him. The librarian excitedly pointed to an extra set of books on a cart. He waved thanks and began to look through the volumes. 

At the cart, he had a direct view of Hermione at her table, and she noticed. She made sure to barely show her eyes above her book. To her surprise, he took no notice. The only peculiar thing was the faint smile on his lips that made her think he was up to no good. 

She shook her head and buried herself behind the book. She had to stop being tricked into thinking he might somehow be a good person. She couldn’t be into him, she just couldn’t. She let out a large sigh and instantly regretted it.

A light snicker came from the cart and suddenly she knew she had been found out. She snatched the book away from her face, attempting to hide how mortified she was. Her eyes narrowed. 

Malfoy’s gaze was barely raised up from the cart of books, but he met hers nonetheless. There was a flash of calm grey and light smile. Hermione blinked, utterly confused, before getting up and marching right out. 

…

Draco noticed her the minute she had come down the stairs. He had known it was her when he recognized the freckles on her shoulder. The shelves weren’t stocked well enough to be able to hide the pattern on her skin. And, much to his annoyance, his mind wouldn’t let him forget how much he liked her freckles. 

Speaking with the librarian had only been a ploy. He knew it would lure that muggle girl out, if it was really her. The librarian was more than happy to assist a young gentleman interested in poetry. When he mentioned just how much women appreciated his love of poetry, he could have sworn he heard a click of a tongue from behind the book. It made him chuckle. It was such a rush to get under her skin like that. 

Draco hadn’t expected to shock her so much by actually showing interest in books. He could tell it bothered her, his nonchalance. When he had heard her sigh he glanced up to look her right in the eyes for only a second. She glared dangerously, her dark brown eyes reflected in his light ones. 

He knew the minute he smirked she’d lose it. He cast his eyes up quickly to catch her leaving. She dragged her bag behind her in a whirlwind and paraded right through the large doors. A student practically jumped out of her way.

He smiled to himself, satisfied. With one last pass of the books with his hand, he selected a small one to his liking. He exited the library in a slow, bouncing sort of gait. Wait until I tell Blaise… 

…

Hermione entered her apartment in a rush. There was color on her cheeks and her jaw was set. She threw her bag down on a stool and it slid off into a heap on the floor. Kicking it, Hermione huffed her irritation at her most recent encounter at the library. 

She felt like she’d been kicked in the head; too many crazy things were going on. One minute Malfoy was blowing up in her face over a spilled drink, next he was chatting up a librarian, treating her like his own grandmother. He was incorrigible!

He had known the whole time that she was watching him, his smirk told her that. He had outsmarted her and it pissed her off completely. How could she have been so stupid as to follow him around like that? It was bound to have ended poorly and now here she was, fuming again over him. 

There was a knock at the door then. When Hermione got up to open it, Erin was standing there with a smile. 

“Whoa chica, what happened to you and who can I beat up for ya?” Erin asked, hands full of school papers. She walked over to the couch and set them down before placing a bag on the coffee table. From it, she proceeded to grab boxes of take-out. 

“Oh nothing, just it’s been two weeks since that dreadful night and I can’t seem to catch a break! He was in my spot Erin, my spot in the library! THE spot!” Hermione whined, walking over and grabbing a box. She flopped down on the armchair and pushed around her food aimlessly. 

“You’re kidding! By ‘him’ you mean that dick blonde from that first night? Holy hell, he leaves no room for romance does he?” Erin raised her eyebrows.

“Stop! He is absolutely not interested in me; he simply enjoys putting me through hell,” huffed Hermione in protest. “There’s nothing romantic about that.” 

“Tell me all about it then,” Erin encouraged. 

When Hermione had finished explaining their afternoon library encounter, Erin only laughed. 

“And what part of that story is so comical, huh?” Hermione frowned.

“Hermione relax, okay. I know you don’t like him but you have to admit, it is quite funny. I can’t believe you thought you were so well hidden, you were behind a book for goodness sakes!” Erin giggled again. 

“He’s probably just mad you aren’t fawning over him so he’s upsetting your orderly, logical world instead. It’s hilarious, really!” Erin mused. “You really can only ignore him or shag him at this point. Either way you need to figure out how to get him off your mind.” 

Unhappy with either option Erin was suggesting, Hermione pouted. “Fine. Nevermind then, I’ll just take my sulking to my room thank you very much,” and she stalked to her room and shut the door. 

Once inside, she slid to the floor. Her heartbeat was heavy in her chest and she could feel the twinge of magic beginning to move through her veins. He’s targeting me as a play thing, she thought, taking a few long breaths. And I’m letting him. Ugh. 

She got up from her floor then, quickly yanked a towel from the hook on the wall before hopping in the shower. As she washed her hair, the warm water swirled down her body in a soothing way. She had to relax; her emotions were once again getting the better of her.

As she shut off the water and the cold air hit her, she still felt bitter. Maybe he liked seeing her angry and that’s why he did the things he did. But even that seemed ridiculous. No one was that fucked up, were they? 

She grabbed her towel to dry off. Relaxing sure would be easier if she just had some answers. All that soap and he was still under her skin. Well, if that was the game that he wanted to play then she could play too, she reasoned. Maybe next time she wouldn’t just sit there watching. 

…

Draco made a show of his entrance as he slammed the front door. “Oh hello there Blaise, didn’t see you there, must have dropped my keys,” he said, tossing them on the ground to make more noise. 

Blaise sat in the sitting room at the dark wooden desk in the corner. He narrowed his eyes, unhappily.

“Well that’s no face to give your best of friends when he tried so hard to be a good little pureblood today!” Draco strolled over the couch and laid down, flipping the book in his hands.

“Well you’re in too good of a mood to be lying. What did you do?” Blaise set his quill down. 

“Well, well, well, you are in for a treat Blaise, I was in the library today and you’ll never guess what happened…” Draco’s smirk curled his lips and Blaise immediately regretted asking. 

…

Hermione busied herself with cleaning her room after her shower. Her room didn’t actually need much tidying but it was a good distraction before Ginny and Luna showed up. She had almost forgotten they were coming over with all the chaos of the last few hours still not leaving her at peace. She had met Ginny two more times already, once for coffee again and another for a study session that Hermione organized of course. 

Hermione had invited both girls over tonight so they could all unwind from the first two week’s woes the best way college kids know how: drinking at a house party. Ginny had brought Luna to coffee last time, so Hermione could meet her. 

Luna was quite the unique young woman. Her long blonde hair glistened even when the sun went down and she sat up straight, lolling her head from side to side every so often like she was in a daydream for a little while. But she was kind and smart, and Hermione enjoyed Luna’s interesting, light attitude towards life. She was odd, but that suited Hermione just fine. 

As Hermione roughly folded laundry she wondered whether the girls had anything interesting to share. Although they felt like they had known each other for weeks already, Hermione actually found herself quite lost sometimes. 

Ginny and Luna made some rather peculiar comments, about their past school or home life, and Hermione was ever curious to know more. She knew only snippets of Ginny’s brothers, there were 6 of them, right? Maybe 5… and Luna only had her dad, a journalist. 

Hermione was hopeful that he could get her an internship before Ginny mentioned it was in another country. Weird. And then there was Ginny’s mysteriously amazing boyfriend, she loved to talk about him; it was the cutest thing for such a young girl to be so wholeheartedly in love. 

The faint noise of the intercom buzzed from the living room and Hermione heard Erin get up, open the front door, and holler at the girls as they came up the stairs. In a matter of minutes Ginny walked in like she owned the place.

“This is pretty sick, the dorms are nothing compared to this,” Ginny raved, flopping down on the couch and making herself comfortable. Erin had moved her papers to the coffee table and, after locking the front door behind them, she sprawled out on the floor to continue organizing. Luna wandered in a little behind Ginny, said hi to Erin, then walked over to the windows. 

“Glad you like the place, I couldn’t ask for a better neighbor,” she winked at Hermione. Hermione stuck out her tongue. 

“I love how far you can see from up here, it’s like I’m watching these people as if they were bugs,” Luna mentioned, not peeling her eyes away from the busy sidewalk below. 

“Yeah, my dad got a pretty good deal on it too. A sister branch of his dentist’s office is located on the ground floor as you came up,” Hermione said. The apartment had come unfurnished but it was about $100 cheaper than what she expected to pay, so she didn’t complain. 

“Anyway, how's your classes, are you getting a lot of reading? I forgot what you said you’re both taking,” Hermione asked, still a little foggy from her shower. She figured if she put all her effort into really getting to know these girls, maybe she could forget the ill fortune of a certain snarky blonde. 

“Well I’m fascinated by my biology course. It’s about all these wonderful creatures. Just by glancing through the textbook I’ve learned a lot,” Luna said smiling. Hermione had heard the intro bio course was fairly difficult, but Luna didn’t seem intimidated. 

“That sounds nice. I haven’t taken my science course yet. Even though I’m an English major you still need to take at least one, so I think I’m going to hold out for an astronomy course. The seats fill up fast for it, so hopefully next year,” Hermione explained.

“No, definitely not. You don’t want to do Astronomy,” Ginny said seriously. “I took it at Hog- our old school, and it was torture. Star charts and planet alignments, it gets so confusing. I think I made up some constellations on the last one!”

“You took it where?” Erin asked then, catching Ginny stumbling on her words.

“Oh, um I said ‘Hog,’ it’s a nickname we had for the building with uh, the astronomy rooms. Don’t know where it came from really,” Ginny said smiling in a very convincing matter. Erin shrugged and went back to writing. 

“Oh! I had no idea! But I’ve always loved stars…” Disappointment was evident in Hermione’s voice, but now she felt obligated to try. She always liked a challenge and if it really was as difficult as Ginny said, she’d be thrilled. When she turned back to the girls they were laughing over something Hermione hadn’t heard. “What’s so funny?” 

Between laughs Ginny was able to speak, “I remember once, for the exam, I didn’t study at all. I had too many rolls- I mean pages to write on another paper. I had to write what the constellations meant, their origins and such. I just remember there was one called ‘Draconis’ and there was a kid that we all knew, he was named after it. He was such a little prick though. So I just described him getting the shit kicked out of him and thrown into the sky and I got full points!” she laughed. Luna couldn’t stifle a chuckle either. 

“It was quite brilliant on your part, Gin,” Luna said.

“I don’t know what’s worse, the fact you didn’t study or that this kid’s parents named him after such a constellation,” Hermione wondered, and it only led to more laughter. 

“Well, if you knew him you wouldn’t feel bad for him, it’s fine,” Ginny said, looking at Luna knowingly. She nodded in agreement. The girls talked some more about schoolwork and Hermione listened along. But she couldn’t help but think back on the constellation. It almost seemed familiar… 

Coming back to the conversation in front of her, Luna was just finishing telling how she had stayed up all night to finish a paper only to discover it was for the wrong topic. She was sad but she showed the teacher anyway and he ended up commending her for her hard work outside the box. 

“Well it was Flitwick, it’s not like he could dislike you Luna, you were the best in char- that class,” Ginny said. 

“There you go again, slipping on your words. You haven’t had anything to drink yet, you sure?” Erin laughed at Ginny and Ginny made a pass at her with a light fist. 

“Maybe, we need to,” Hermione hopped up then and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a large pitcher of what looked like lemonade from the fridge. 

“So, what else, what’s your favorite so far?” Hermione asked, pouring four glasses full. 

“Well, we’re both in a creative writing course and this exercise class where you learn about all these different sports; it’s really neat actually,” Luna said, turning to Hermione.

“Yeah, and the professor is this burly lady, real muscular sort. She asked me why I wasn’t on the softball team. I tossed a ball and the boy that was supposed to catch it fell backwards. It was so funny, she asked if I always throw balls like that,” Ginny said. 

Hermione knew she must have been an athlete at one point recently, and she wondered why she hadn’t decided to join any team or at least club sport. “Did you reply to her?” Hermione asked. 

“I told her I have balls hard as rocks,” stated Ginny simply, like it was an obviously normal reaction. “And that I don’t usually throw them.” Both Luna and Hermione couldn’t hold back laughter. She was really starting to like this girl!

“Ha! Are you talking about Ms. Crendal? Oh man, Hermione remember when I tried to get away without taking any tests with her? She hated me,” Erin said. 

“Oh my God, yes! She’s always been so pushy if you show even the slightest bit of athletic talent!” responded Hermione, passing out the cups.

“I’m glad you gave her hell though,” Erin said to Ginny. “Man, Hermione I think I’m going to really like this one.” She pointed to Ginny. 

“Ginny did you play any sports before coming here then? You must have for Crendal to notice you,” Hermione asked. 

“Um yeah, but it was just with some friends nothing serious,” stated Ginny. 

“She played baseball. We had a little tournament every year between the dorms. Ginny was good!” Luna said, as if it was obvious that Ginny was covering up her accomplishments. 

Luna had gone to muggle schooling up until she was sixteen, taking summer schooling on vacation time away from Hogwarts. Her mother had wanted their child to grow up with a good sense of the two worlds that existed so her dad made sure to send her every summer. Now, it had actually come in handy as they had to transition quick to muggle life here. 

“What’s this baseba-“ Ginny started to say, a look of confusion on her face. But Luna looked at her sharply and Ginny shut her mouth. Being in hiding here was certainly much harder with the traditional wizarding upbringing that Ginny had. She kept forgetting that there were things she couldn’t say or talk about.

“What did you say Ginny, I’m sorry I didn’t catch that last bit besides baseball,” Hermione said, having just come into the living room with the rest of the cups she couldn’t carry the first time. She sat down opposite Ginny and stirred the ice in her glass with her finger. 

Ginny curled her legs up next to her like a cat, comfortably taking a large sip of her drink. “Whoa. I was not expecting that but that is much better than-“ She paused for a second, Luna looking at her again. 

“Than the beer we used to drink at school?” It came out as kind of a question and Hermione looked confused, but figured it was nothing to think too hard on. It was time for them to loosen up and let go, to hell with word slips, libraries, and disturbed boys. 

“You sure you’ve had nothing before this?” Hermione laughed. “I’m glad you like it. There’s plenty to get us through the night so drink up,” Hermione smiled encouragingly. 

Half an hour later, Erin gathered up her schoolwork and headed to her apartment. She came back in a whirlwind of denim and feathers, insisting that the rest of them get off their asses and get ready. At that, they followed Hermione to her room. 

“Well this is simply darling,” Luna’s lofty voice said when they entered. It was a decent size and Hermione took the time to put up a large sticker on the wall of a giant arching tree that took up half the room in the corner where her bed was.

“Thank you, I picked everything out myself,” Hermione said fondly, looking around. 

“At our old school, we shared a dormitory with 8 other girls. You keep your room for your whole stay there, it was pretty neat,” mentioned Luna.

“Please, tell me more,” Hermione asked nicely. She loved hearing how different their school was. 

“We had these huge beds, ugh I miss them!” Ginny stated, laying down on Hermione’s. “They were giant four posters, with maroon and gold sheets. At least the colors here are about the same, silver instead of gold, but that’s okay. And we were the lions too, so we can still wear some of our old stuff,” Ginny explained, pointing to Luna’s maroon jumper that had a brilliant lion embroidered on the front. 

“Oh! I thought you got that at the bookstore, I was going to ask you!” Hermione said shocked. She had really liked it too and hoped to get her own. The girls were already on their second glass of spiked lemonade and it felt good to relax with new friends. 

“Yeah, Ginny had a similar mascot but I was part of a different house. We were the ravens. There were four divisions within our school,” Luna said. “I guess you could say they were for different types of learning. You got placed based on a test at the beginning of the year.” She mentioned this last bit to convince Hermione. Ginny and Luna exchanged glances as Hermione busied herself in the closet. 

“Yeah, it’s neat. I feel like you would have loved it, seeing as how you’re so smart. I’ve seen you do work faster than anyone I’ve ever known and I’ve only had two study sessions with you!” Ginny confessed, looking at Hermione with respect. 

Hermione blushed. “Well thanks, I kind of pride myself on my schoolwork. I got really into it back when I was younger because… well, to be honest, I didn’t have many friends,” she said quietly. She wasn’t sure they were ready to hear her story and she didn’t want to bore them with how she didn’t fit in anywhere. She wasn’t whining about it anymore. 

“Oh, that’s not okay. Come on, tell us,” Ginny chided, getting up to help her search for something to wear. 

“Oh, alright…” Hermione went on to detail her childhood, leaving out the magic. But they seemed sympathetic and told stories of their own annoying childhoods. Maybe it was the addition of a third glass of alcohol, but the girls found it easy to talk to one another, even about stuff that seemed too personal for how fresh their friendship was. It made Hermione happy. 

She found out Ginny was the only girl in a family too crowded, which was why she was so rough and tough. Luna had struggled making friends all her life, what with her sometimes peculiar hobbies and her father willing to run stories no one else wrote about. But he wrote to be just and unbiased; Hermione respected that greatly.

In two hours’ time the girls were almost drunk, not sure if they really wanted to go out or not. But Erin wouldn’t let them stay there reveling in past stories. Hermione was happy they were closer from sharing so many stories, good and bad, but now it was time to make some memories together. 

They climbed down the stairs in a giggling stumble and Hermione was the last one to leave. This is going to be great, Hermione thought to herself and she pulled the door shut. Quickly looking to see if the girls were watching, she waved her hand to lock the door before she descended the steps. When she joined them in the lobby, no one was any wiser.


	6. Office Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione returns papers to her students and holds office hours, praying that a certain blonde idiot won't show up. Meanwhile, the Slytherins discover something magical about the school after all, and it just might be hidden in Hermione's favorite place: the library.

Draco rolled over in bed with a groan. They were late to class for the fourth straight day in a row, and this time Draco hadn’t even bothered to try to hurry. Blaise had yelled for ten minutes straight to wake him. Draco hadn’t found it worth his time and when Blaise had finally managed to undo the three Protego charms Draco had set to lock his bedroom with last night, he was not happy. 

When they got outside, Draco’s mood was as gloomy as the gray October clouds smothering the skies. It reflected the headache he felt from a recent night staying up drinking at some muggle party that had turned out to be quite the night. 

“Hurry up, we are already missing most of class, the least you could do is move a little faster than a fucking Cornish pixie! I know you’re potentially still hammered, but you could at least make some sort of noise to let me know you hear me,” Blaise said as they made their way down the sidewalk. His haughty attitude did nothing to make Draco’s hangover better.

It had been over a month of this muggle bullshit and Draco still wasn’t used to it. Classes had seemed so much better managed and organized at Hogwarts and so had their free time. The only thing it seemed like he did now was drink copious amounts of alcohol to make life less boring. 

Blaise continued to pester Draco about blood statuses and muggles in some attempt to wear away Draco’s stubbornness. While Draco still held onto his superiority like a weapon, he seemed to fit in with at least half the kids he sat in class with- barely paying attention and hungover. 

Draco and his classmates were all much more concerned with their own mental state to care about literary devices and essays. He hated admitting he was like them but drinking away your problems seemed to be a universal thing.

His interactions with muggles were now tolerable despite being based exclusively on forced encounters in class and making small talk at parties. He wasn’t cruel to their faces, just indifferent; he didn’t want to succumb to violence and abuse the way his father did. 

Draco didn’t believe that solely being a muggle made you a target for that kind of stuff, but that didn’t mean he had to play completely nice either. If someone was being a dumbass he was going to say something, let his sarcasm take them down, muggle or not. 

“You look like hell by the way, maybe you want to take a night off the social scene, huh?” Blaise said, spite in his eyes. He was walking too swiftly to see Draco hold up his middle finger. 

“At least I had a night of enjoyment,” he countered, “unlike you. All you do is study, Merlin knows why when it’s muggle shit we don’t even need,” Draco voice was accusatory. 

“What is in a night of enjoyment for you now that we are here Drake?” Blaise prompted. “Do you still try to see which girls are the most fuckable and get the winner to go home with you? Seems like that game would be awfully difficult now. No one’s your type.” He waited with a smirk for Draco’s response. 

When Draco said nothing, Blaise smiled. “Or maybe, you aren’t anyone’s type.” 

Draco gave a short laugh. “As if. I’m everyone’s type.” Muggle girls seemed to be mesmerized by him as he passed in the quad and when he showed up at parties, he wasn’t blind. 

But he also didn’t want Blaise thinking the wrong thing; mindlessly leading on muggle girls just to get a rise out of them or flatter his ego was completely different than sleeping with them. Right? He shook the thought away. Right. Completely different. 

“Just because I used to do that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped,” Draco said. “The fact that they are girls in nearly nothing strutting around at these parties is something I find hard to ignore.” 

Blaise turned wide eyes on his friend. “Well, well, what have we here? Has Draco Malfoy finally gone soft for muggles? Did you get with one already? Don’t lie, Theo will tell me if I ask him, he probably saw everything,” Blaise was too cheerful and he could feel Draco’s temper rise.

“That’s not what I meant at all, you prat,” Draco spat. He didn’t like when people twisted his words. “But you know I can’t pass up a good looking girl giving me an eye Blaise, it’s torture not having even Pansy here to fuck okay,” Draco rubbed his forehead, his headache still pounding.

They hurried along past the bus stop. They were going to have to walk the whole way having missed the bus by fifteen minutes. Draco felt the wind whip his hair around as he considered how frustrated he was. 

Only a month into school and he felt like a caged rabbit; he just wanted that release but there was no one worthy to satisfy him. Bored at parties or in line for the café, Draco had begun making a sort of game out of mindlessly leading on muggle girls. 

He still hadn’t gone as far as to sleep with one, but the more time he spent drinking and hanging around with them the more he found that they weren’t exactly as different or disgusting or as seemingly inferior as his father always claimed all his childhood. It was a harsh reality he was starting to see and maybe that accounted for the amount he was drinking these days.

He still didn’t want to let go of old values, it felt like deserting his family and they still loved him; at least his mother probably still did. And he couldn’t seem to really give up on her. 

But it worried him- he had run away. He had left; ran from his problems, ran from his family. Surely they were going to disown him regardless of his choice of partner. It would be the biggest “fuck you” he could give his father. And while that was tempting in and of itself, something kept him from fully doing it. 

As Draco thoughts mixed around uncomfortably, he tried to justify himself in the only way he could think of. “Blaise I want nothing more than to satisfy my own male callings. I want that blonde witch with the huge tits from the Harpies, naked feeding me pineapple for the rest of my days, but we can’t always get what we want mate. Now shut up I don’t want to have a row about muggle sluts this early in the morning.” 

Draco thought in irritation of the know-it-all bitch from that first night; he’d never had someone attack him quite like she had. Maybe that’s why he was still on the fence; she’d ruined muggle girls for him.

“Well, if you can call them sluts, I don’t get what’s so wrong with sleeping with them. Last I checked, your bedroom partners aren’t always ‘pure’ in that sense," Blaise pointed out.

“Yes but they’re in the proper category,” Draco replied, malice in his voice. “They’re magical.”

Blaise just shook his head. “Just so you know, nothing will happen to you, I’ve already proven that was a false, fucked up pureblood myth,” Blaise said, gesturing to his perfectly normal wizarding body. “Besides, you already ran away, you can’t fuck up any more than you already have.” 

Draco’s headache was getting worse and his patience with Blaise was at its end. "I would let the most dirty blooded muggle girl deepthroat my cock in front of my father if it meant I didn’t have to listen to your voice ever again, you piece of Merlin’s sagging bollocks," Draco said between his teeth. 

He didn’t want to listen to this. Wasn’t getting mutually, dangerously intoxicated together with muggles enough? It was way too early for death eater slash amidst such a hangover. A tiny twinge of pain shot down his left arm.

Blaise, on the other hand, started laughing. “I’d pay you money to see that happen and Merlin knows the amount of times I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing you at it for free.” 

Draco scowled, hurt, but Blaise continued. “You’re scared, just admit it. Scared to realize you don’t have to listen to what mommy and daddy say 24/7. Scared of the death eaters finding us. Scared more of what they’d do to you than of muggle girls that are nothing more than sluts, as you so eloquently put it.”

Draco removed his sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes. He looked back at Blaise, his anger thick in his voice. “I don’t get scared. Concerned yes. Confused, kind of. But that’s beside the point.”

“So then if they’re sluts and you’re not scared, what the fuck do you got to lose? Besides a literal fuck,” Blaise said, and it took Draco a second to come up with a good answer. When finally, all he could give was a disgruntled shrug, Blaise snickered.

“So then, how about a gamble Drake. You know you can’t resist. If you, by some crazy, bizarre turn of events, do end up sleeping with some muggle slut I’ll reward you,” Blaise challenged with a smile. 

Draco finally lifted his head. “A reward? What could you possibly offer me?” stated Draco like he was growing bored. “And why a reward?” he questioned, knowing Blaise’s motive was sure to be something he wasn’t going to like.

“Well for starters I think you’d only truly sleep with a muggle if you actually start changing your beliefs on blood purity and finally get rid of all that garbage that’s been rotting your brain. I’ve gotten rid of it and look how perfectly normal and happy I am?” giving himself as an example didn’t seem to make any difference to Draco, who just narrowed his gaze at Blaise’s words.

“’Happy’ is a loose term; we're in hiding and completely cut off from the wizarding world don’t forget,” Draco managed before Blaise spoke again. 

“I know you too well Draco. You won’t commit to anything that doesn’t have an easy escape or a way to manipulate the outcome to your own desires. But fooling around with muggles will take more guts than you’re willing to admit and it does scare you. It has to because of what’s at stake,” Blaise paused, chancing a glance at Draco, who had gone silent. 

Draco’s jaw was set hard and his hair continued to move jaggedly in the wind. His mind was reeling. Blaise was completely correct in his assumptions. For the first time, Draco realized he was scared- not of sleeping with muggles necessarily- but of what his family, what the death eaters would do to him when they found out. 

“But I think you can prove yourself wrong, you just need something you’d actually try hard to get back,” Blaise said and as he looked down Draco followed his gaze. He flashed the red wooden handle of his own wand from under his coat sleeve. Draco almost stopped walking.

“Do you mean-?” Draco searched his jacket pockets frantically then, obviously just now realizing his missing wand. “You jackass. How did you manage to do that? Give it here.” 

“How do you manage to go so many places without it?” Blaise countered, but Draco merely flicked two of his fingers before Blaise’s backpack split, sending notebooks to the ground. As Draco snickered Blaise bent to gather the books, looking both ways down the street before taking out his own wand to clean the mess up.

“It’s just a safety precaution. You might be good at wandless but you can’t do anything more powerful than second level spells so at least I can sleep easier,” Blaise was stern. He believed Draco would see his wand as a decent motivating factor. Maybe Draco would even start thinking about the bigger picture of blood purities and war.

Draco tried to think logically; could he be convincing enough in this bet and get his wand back? There were options to cheat; the Confundus Charm, albeit difficult to do wandless. He could possibly fake it with Pansy or fake it with an actual muggle… 

He saw Blaise’s outstretched hand and decided then; maybe these odds could work out for him. It was always fun for him to crush a bet with Blaise when Blaise assumed he’d win. He used that confidence to push away the lingering fears of death eaters and blood purity, hoping to forget them. 

Draco spoke as he grasped Blaise’s hand. “Are you sure you want to make a bet with an ex-death eater? We’re not the smartest individuals to make deals with.”

“You did say ‘ex’ right? That’s a step in the right direction,” Blaise said and he began to run before Draco could slug him.

…

September went by in a whiplash of assignments, hangouts, drinking, and a few late night study sessions that Hermione wouldn’t let Ginny sleep through. Despite Hermione’s best efforts Ginny wasn’t making significant progress in any of her classes; while she did like to learn it was not in the conventional way that Hermione was so desperate to instill. 

Hermione really had to help her extensively with some of her material, but it only made Hermione happy to be useful. She held their study sessions in the west end of the library, not daring to get close to the East Wing or her coveted spot since the first week. Best to just avoid any problems…

The girls had become much closer over the last month, finding time to hang out almost every other day it seemed. Their friendship felt like hers and Erin’s; it was easy and fun and witty and comfortable even. Hermione felt so much like she belonged. 

Her good mood was much more prominent than ever as she sat in Sterns’ class that first Friday of October she sipped her coffee. They’d be handing back the first papers of the semester today. It was only a two page response but Hermione had spent all week in her office after class grading them. She hadn’t seen the blonde’s amongst the names of student responses she had; maybe Sterns had the pleasure of running his red pen all over it. 

She hadn’t forgotten her anger for the pretentious blonde, but it was easier to deal with now. As she glanced to her right to see if he had decided to grace them with his presence today, she saw an empty seat yet again and was satisfied. 

It was becoming more and more frequent that he skipped Sterns’ class altogether and that was just fine by her. It was another day she wouldn’t have to be bothered by knowing he was sitting there casually not paying any attention. 

He hadn’t even noticed her in the class yet. It’s been a month and he does nothing but see how far he can get with bugging that blonde in front of him. How distasteful, this is class time not mating time, she remarked to herself. 

Okay, so maybe she still thought about him occasionally. Since Blaise knew she was in the class, she figured he told his friend she was there. Maybe that’s why he skipped class so much. Or maybe to save both of them Blaise kept his mouth shut.

She focused once again on what Sterns was saying, turning back to the front of the class. Blaise wasn’t here either, but she wasn’t too worried. She had read his piece and, while there was still lots of room for improvement, she liked that he actually gave a shit. But it was then that Sterns motioned to her sitting in the corner and she gave a smile.

“And this charming young lady here will be your demise. Class, I introduce you to Miss Granger. I suggest you take a look at the syllabus to find out her office hours as you must go visit her to discuss your response. I have marked the questions I believe she is capable of helping you expand on. Pick one. The grading scale is also on the syllabus, learn it. We will compare your performance on both the paper and the type of discussion you can build with her,” he stated as if he were writing away some of these kids with a death sentence, fulfilled only in her office. “I’ve only ever let one other person, besides Miss Granger when she took this class last year, not have to go through a discussion. Be prepared.” 

People looked at her almost scared and Hermione was surprised at the power placed in her hands. It made her smirk, she loved hearing Sterns praise her own work. She had stayed up two nights straight with cups upon cups of coffee to earn that ‘no discussion needed’ on her paper. She couldn’t have been prouder.

This is going to be a fun week, she thought excitedly. She could really help out some students and that made her giddy. Maybe she’d luck out and have some students who were equally as ambitious as she was last year. Although, her mind quickly shot back to the empty seats in the back of the class; her anger sparked a bit as she realized they would both have to come to her office hours too. 

She almost couldn’t believe her stupidity of not realizing this problem sooner. Could she talk to Sterns and tell him or would that be too childish? While Blaise was mostly harmless she wasn’t sure she was ready for another one on one with his friend.

No, you’re an adult Hermione. You can do this, she thought. She sipped her coffee some more, trying to think of a logical way to handle this. She hoped maybe she’d luck out and he wouldn’t show to his meeting; he didn’t frequent class so why would he be in any hurry to go out of his way to her office? 

It was her only hope at this point. She sighed heavily and looked back at the professor respectfully. “Don’t be fooled now, by her smile and courtesies,” Sterns looked at her with a knowing smile. 

He held up a finger as people were packing up their bags; class was almost over but he wanted them to hear him. “I’ve read her work, I know what she’s capable of. Be careful playing with fire.” He looked at Hermione then and raised an eyebrow. 

“Get your papers before you leave, class dismissed.” Hermione nodded at him. He turned to leave, handing a stack of papers to a girl sitting in the first row. Hermione stood quickly and stepped up on her chair to get everyone’s attention.

“Oi!” she yelled, before they really started bustling about. “I have last names R-Z, she has A-Q. Red pen is Sterns, green pen is me. Some of you got the pleasure of both of us grading. Hope it’s not too terrible,” she smiled about to step down. “Oh, and there’s a signup sheet outside my office. Find it by Tuesday.” 

She hopped down then, the students starting to break apart into groups to get their papers, many lining up right in front of her. She sifted through the pile on her table as students began approaching her. 

Each time a student told her their name, she found it and the crowd began to diminish. The girl across the room hurried over to Hermione after five minutes and gave her the rest of the papers no one claimed from Sterns’ pile. She knew there would be stragglers so she waited ten more minutes before leaving. 

The hall was almost empty when the door swung open again. A girl was getting her paper from Hermione at the moment, but when she glanced to see who came in, her eyes fell upon Blaise. He came down the stairs two at a time, looking flustered. He stopped just a few steps behind the girl to give them privacy and smiled. 

The girl asked once more which floor Hermione’s office was on and how many times they could meet before she left. Hermione looked at the five papers she had left and spotted one with Blaise’s name in very cubic handwriting on the top. She grabbed it and handed it to him.

“Hi there,” she said, “a little late aren’t we? This is yours I believe.” 

“Ah, hello there and thanks,” he said tucking the paper into his bag. “Well as you’re probably aware more so than most people, since you’ve had the lovely opportunity to speak to him yourself, my friend is not the easiest person to motivate to come to class, which results in my own tardiness. Do you happen to have his paper as well?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically. “You know, I’m not even surprised really. You shouldn’t let him control you like that,” she said. “What’s his name again? Malloy?” 

“Malfoy. And I like to think I control him most of the time, yet I have never quite been able to stop him completely. Especially from loitering in public libraries,” Blaise smirked as Hermione whipped around, disregarding the papers.

“He told you about-?” she couldn’t even finish her sentence. He had probably gone home that night and bragged to Blaise about catching her spying on him. She crossed her arms, practically stomping her foot. 

“Yes, he was more than giddy to brag about annoying you, who wouldn’t?” Blaise smiled, but his backwards compliment didn’t amuse her. 

She turned back to the papers. Most were typed but, similar to Blaise’s, she found another handwritten one in the pile. It was a single, smaller sheet of brown parchment. Hermione found it odd, knowing sure well that the printers on campus did not spit out paper like this. Nor did the bookstore sell it, but she didn’t put it past him to do something so attention-seeking. 

On the top, a fancy scrawl of letters spelled out his name. “Can he get any more of an ego, honestly?” she fumed, handing Blaise the small piece of paper. 

Blaise chuckled at her and took it with wide eyes. “You should see him in private.”

“I’ll pass, thank you very much. I have to get to this meeting but make sure you sign up for a discussion time outside my office, it’s in the tower. It’s basically required since it is part of your grade,” she mentioned, “But if Malfoy even decides he wants help from me tell him to save his time. I would do anything to make sure he failed, I have that power, so” she said sharply, shouldering her bag. 

“Oh he won’t care about failing, trust me. He’s a lot smarter than you’re giving him credit for. He’ll find a way to turn any grade into an A. I, however, won’t mind visiting you,” Blaise smiled sweetly. 

Hermione wasn’t in any mood for his flattery and she stayed silent. She merely gave a look of disinterest before climbing the stairs. 

Blaise’s smile turned into a frown. “Or maybe I’ll just bring him with me then.”

Blaise’s words reached her as she grabbed the door handle. Her anger quickly rose; maybe Malfoy was right and Blaise was just as bad. She decided she would only warn them once.

“Well,” she mused, remembering Sterns’ closing remarks, “please know, it’s a dangerous thing to play with fire. I’m sure he doesn’t want to get burned again. Same goes for you.” Her voice was thick with intimidation as it echoed through the empty lecture hall. She turned on her heel and left, a tiny smile on her lips as she heard Blaise chuckling behind her. 

…

When Blaise started to run to make it to the last minutes of Sterns’ class Draco had laughed. He didn’t feel nearly well enough to keep up the pace for more than five minutes. If they were going to be late, he felt they might as well not go at all. He was in the middle of iterating that fact when he slowed to a walk and Blaise continued on without him. 

When Draco had finally reached campus, he grabbed a large, black coffee to fix his headache. He wished he had some Hangover Potion to spike it with, but alas, he had used up all his father’s stores from the house in the first few weeks and hadn’t made any effort to brew some. He made a mental note to do so later.

Draco went out into the quad then choosing his favorite spot, the top of the large stone wall bordering the garden. As he lay there, easing his headache away, a cool breeze came around his face and curled his hair. He shivered looking out into the courtyard. 

It was overcast and Friday, so there were few if any people about. He closed his eyes and put up his hood in an attempt to get rid of the dizziness that accompanied the half cup of coffee he already consumed. 

Before Blaise was out of sight he had mumbled something about at least getting their papers and Draco remembered the single paragraph he had written last week for the assignment. He had done so drunkenly late the night before it was due; it was far from his best work, but he didn’t care. He was going to just fix his grade with magic later, if they even needed to. He wasn’t sure how long they were going to be staying in hiding.

From their conversation this morning Draco couldn’t seem to stop himself from thinking of his family and what could possibly be happening right now in the wizarding world. He hoped his mother was managing to keep away from his father’s abuse. 

It was sad he hoped Voldemort was keeping his dad occupied with some vile task or another, just so he’d stay away from his mother. But maybe that meant the war was closer than they knew. He shook the thoughts that made him colder and scratched at his wrist.

And then there’s this, he thought, knowing what was lurking beneath the sleeve he rubbed at. It weighed in the back of his mind how much trouble they’d be in if his dark mark was reactivated. It had been very faint for some time and with all the heat back in September he’d been stuck with bandaging it up just so he could wear short sleeves. They couldn’t risk someone somehow recognizing what it was. 

He itched the covered mark again, like it had sensed he was thinking about it. Useless piece of shit. He thought of muggles he’d seen in London or Paris or Denmark or Spain on family vacations. He had a vague feeling he hadn’t been able to comprehend how they minded their own business when his father claimed the world hated them. The lectures on blood status had been never ending.

He thought of Lucius and Dolohov and Yaxley and his Aunt Bella, who never bothered to owl before she just showed up wreaking havoc. He thought of cold mornings in the Manor and always warm tea from house elves he’d been taught to kick. He frowned.

The boys had been holding practice sessions as often as they could, anything to keep their magic sharp and be prepared for… for what? If anything came of the mark or if anyone found them. They were fugitives and a war was just beginning. 

He guessed those sessions would be difficult now with the bet in place; maybe he’d have to get better at wandless. He began practicing now, feeling his stomach grow sick. Whether it was from the hangover or his thoughts on the mark and his family, he didn’t want to know. The stone underneath his hand began to chip away at his light movements.

Thinking back to the bet, Draco was sure he could convince Theo to confund a muggle for him. Or confund Blaise for that matter. They could make a show of it. It was a logical solution to getting his wand back and Theo always liked helping to cause trouble between Blaise and Draco. But it’ll have to be planned right.

Ten minutes later he spotted Blaise walking cheerfully towards him from the direction of Sterns’ classroom. Draco just rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to hear whatever shit Blaise had to say, especially if it was going to be full of smiles and schoolwork. When Blaise approached, he looked at the gouge marks in the stone under Draco’s hand and frowned. 

“Why did you even bother coming to school if all you’re going to do is vandalize it?” he asked.

“Don’t you have some muggles to go foster or something?” Draco answered with another question, not warranting a real answer. 

“No, but one in particular you might want to hear about,” Blaise baited. He watched Draco to see if he’d take it. 

Draco sat up and took his hood off. “I’m listening.” 

“Well, since you pay more attention to girls in Sterns’ class than actual literature I assumed you already spotted her from day one. Guess not,” Blaise mused. 

“For Merlin’s fucking sake, who did you see? I doubt I’ll be as interested if you continue to drag this out for no reason,” Draco sounded exasperated.

“Your library friend of course, she’s our teacher’s assistant. Sits in the back most days but Sterns only just mentioned her today.” Blaise explained. “That’s what she told me at least, before I got our papers,” Blaise tried to hide his smile.

Draco’s attention shot up. How had he not noticed her? But then again, with the amount of times he skipped the class and the rest given over to making that blonde chick in front of him swoon and pout, he hadn’t really noticed much in that class. 

He shrugged. He’d read the book at least and he hadn’t found it completely terrible. “And what did the lovely bitch have to say, dare I ask?” Draco chugged his coffee down and crushed the cup easily. “Probably bitter over my lack of presence, I’m sure it’s the highlight of her day when I show up.”

“Ah vanity, thy name is Draco,” Blaise chuckled. “It was lucky I caught her, she had both our papers,” he said handing Draco his. “Although, there is a catch. We have to go in and give an oral discussion to complete the grade.”

Draco snorted. “To hell with that, I’m not going in to see that old coot and hear him lecture me on The Grand Gatsy, or whatever the fuck the book was called-“

“Oh you don’t get to talk to the professor- it’s her we have the pleasure of meeting with,” Blaise said looking smug. “And it’s The Great Gatsby you arse. Did you even open the book before writing that paper?”

“I read the whole thing actually,” Draco stared at the chunk of rock he’d carved away. When he looked up at Blaise, he looked lost in his own happy thoughts. “No doubt you’re hoping that the oral part of your grade is solved with her mouth.” Blaise crossed his arms. 

“It’s not like I’ll actually go either way, they can’t force me and even if they did I would just make her life hell again somehow, it could be fun actually.” Draco’s sneer turned into a vicious smile as he realized the opportunity in front of him. 

“No, they cannot force you but I’d think twice about the whole ‘making her life hell’ part if I were you,” Blaise warned, taking his paper out from his bag and looking it over. 

“What do you mean, that’s one of my favorite new games, making muggles mad. And since that time in the library I know she’s one of the best players,” Draco gave a wolfish grin, but Blaise cut him off. 

“Oh no, it’s not that, with this bet I’ll let you do as you please with muggles,” Blaise snickered, “it’s just, she made sure to threaten you before I left. All I’m saying is I wouldn’t cross her if I were you, she was very serious.”

“You’re kidding!” Draco burst into a fit of laughs. “You can’t be serious, she threatened me? How do you know it was me personally?”

“She said and I quote, ‘it’s a dangerous thing to play with fire and he doesn’t want to get burned again.’ I’m pretty sure she was talking about you. I’m actually nice to her.”

Draco’s features reflected his amusement. “I highly doubt the few words you’ve had with her could be categorized as ‘nice.’ More like normal courtesies that you pay any person you don’t know too well; we were raised by the same people remember?” 

Draco didn’t wait for Blaise to respond. “But Merlin, she’s practically begging me to come though Blaise, with that threat,” he smiled wickedly. “You sure she was angry? She definitely is trying to get me to come to her.” 

Blaise stopped reading his marks on his essay and sighed. “Oh come on now, don’t do that to her! She’s been hurt enough from the likes of you on multiple occasions. Give it a rest, yeah?”

“Oh please, Blaise. I wouldn’t do anything terrible, you know me. I’m a harmless pyromaniac,” the sarcasm hung to Draco’s words. His mind was working furiously as he hopped off the wall, feeling the coffee finally kicking in to rid his body of the alcohol. 

“No jokes Drake if you do go, please try to be civil. You’re sounding awfully scummy and I don’t want you regretting anything, she’s a fighter,” Blaise warned, seeing the smirk still dancing on Draco’s face. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind being able to get a little closer with her, you know. Past those ‘normal courtesies’ you mentioned. She already associates us together, you’re hurting my chances.” 

Draco was pacing up and down in front of Blaise. He stopped in front of him then and pointed to his chest. “I’m hurting your chances? You think she’d still be interested if she knew you were the son of someone who kills her kind for sport?” 

Blaise cringed. The words sounded awful, but it was the truth. For both their fathers. He was now regretting bringing this up at all. Draco continued. 

“She’d probably start her own revolution to boot, the fucking crazy bitch,” his eyes were wide as he contemplated it. “Honestly Blaise, I’ve talked to her, get another brunette with nice legs to fuck.”

“So you admit she has nice legs?” Blaise tilted his head in curiosity. Draco eyed the ground, reluctant to answer. “You’re showing some weakness Drake.” Blaise laughed at Draco’s incredulous snarl.

It broke as Draco tried to respond. “For a muggle they’re okay, yes. What’s it to you? It’s not weakness. I’m not completely fucked up, I can appreciate physically attractive traits even if they are on a muggle. I told you that earlier.” 

“That’s quite the thing to admit you know,” Blaise pointed out. Half the time Draco hated muggles and half the time he complimented them these days; it was frustrating being friends with Draco Malfoy, it really was. You never knew which side of him you’d get. 

“Oh yeah? Then how about I win this bet of ours by sleeping with her? That’s also quite the thing to admit,” Draco contemplated then. Blaise glared. “Just to piss you off I could do that. Alas, I wouldn’t but I could.” 

“I highly doubt she would,” Blaise’s voice was monotone with irritation. “She’s a little smarter than most girls you lure into your bedroom.” 

“I don’t lure them, they come willingly,” Draco said. “And I mean that in more than one way.”

“She wouldn’t, you said it yourself and we both know it,” Blaise said through gritted teeth. “Anyway, we’re late. The whole reason I tried so hard to get you up this morning is because Theo found something interesting in the library. Wanted to meet up with us so we could see it,” Blaise left it at that; he didn’t want anyone to overhear them, yet the campus was still deserted. 

Blaise began walking in the direction of the library, not bothering to wait for Draco. Draco was still thinking about the bet and the muggle girl and fucking to really care about the library. He followed Blaise, a smirk still lingering on his sharp features.

…

Blaise and Draco entered the library quickly to escape the sudden rain that had broken through the darkening sky. They were halfway to the library when a downpour enveloped them and they began to run. Inside the door, Draco’s hair was matted to his forehead and Blaise took his bag down from over his head. 

Theo sat on the nearest table waiting for them. The place wasn’t busy since it was the end of the week and Draco was finding it difficult to believe Theo could have found anything interesting about a bunch of books. But he followed Blaise, a smile still on his lips as he kept thinking about the girl, his paper, and their meeting. 

“What is he so happy about?” Theo asked as they got close.

“He’s trying to think of the best way to filet or perhaps fuck our muggle teaching assistant. I’m not actually certain which at this point,” Blaise eyed Draco sharply. “Now, what are we here for?” 

Draco laughed. “I’ve been better around muggle girls that’s for sure, but not enough to be considering sleeping with one, I told you that already.” But tricking Blaise into thinking he had slept with a muggle? Now that he could manage.

“Then you don’t get your wand, it’s as simple as that,” Blaise stated, looking irritated. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Theo snickered.

“Nothing Theo, we just have a little bet going. Naturally, I’m going to try to sabotage it. Now show us what it is you need to show us,” Draco insisted gesturing for Theo to lead the way, his mouth still sporting a mischievous smile. 

“Come on,” Theo waved then on and they took off toward the South Corridor. Theo’s voice fell to a whisper. They ducked around a corner, where they approached a long, windowless hall hidden behind a shelf. “I think I might have found… a separate library.” 

Draco was too busy thinking about what he was going to say to the muggle girl in her office to care what Theo was rambling on about. He decided he would try to seem nice this time, sweet talk her enough to get her guard down and then strike. If that didn’t work and she was a ball of rage again, he could just yell back at her. 

Plus, a small part of him, although he wasn’t going to admit it, wanted to see if she really did turn him on like he thought she might have weeks ago. He hadn’t lied, he did believe she had nice legs and maybe her face was pretty. But it still confused him that his body would react to her. She was a muggle, it didn’t make sense.

He shook away his thoughts. Whatever, it’s nothing. Blaise and Theo stopped in front of him. Draco hadn’t been paying attention so when he looked around all he saw was an old section in the library in a dark corner that looked like many volumes of the same book. When he got closer, he saw they were encyclopedias. 

“What exactly were you doing down here, eh Theo? It’s deserted alright,” Draco looked around. He wandered to the shelf and took a volume off, blowing off the dust. He eyed Theo, snickering. “What did she look like?” 

“She was fine, thanks for asking. Redhead, great breasts. Anyway,” Theo cleared his throat with a proud smile. “I was here with her but when I saw this out of the corner of my eye I had to cut things short. It’s not every day you see a picture of Hogwarts grounds in a muggle uni.” 

A picture hanging between the shelves at the end of the row lay in an ornate, silver frame. When Blaise and Draco saw it, they gasped. The Whomping Willow stood tall and ratty on a foggy, snow covered morning. Theo walked up to it and swung the portrait open; a narrow passage lay beyond it. 

“Well where does it go?” Draco moved forward quickly and disappeared beyond. Blaise quickly looked around before taking out his wand and lighting the end. 

“I’m assuming it goes to another section of the library you arse,” Blaise replied, moving into the passage. 

“Well from the view on the other side I think it would be off the west end because we came from the south and took that corner a while back. But I can’t be sure, I still don’t know this campus as well as I should,” Theo's voice floated through the dark.

“What do you mean ‘view’ it’s fucking dark as hell in here,” Draco complained, useless without his wand to light the way. Lumos was one of those weird spells that could only be done with a wand. 

Blaise shoved him aside and proceeded down. The corridor quickly came to an end where a narrow staircase went up high and crooked to a small landing. A single, plain door was waiting at the top. Draco went up first and when he reached the door he knocked, not knowing what else to do. 

“It’s a magical door, you can’t just open it. I found that out already. Whoever made this must have been a fucking Ravenclaw, there’s a question to answer the door,” Theo pointed.

Letters came into view as if they were carved into the wood: What is your name? What is your ambition? 

“His name is Draco and he hopes to make people suffer,” laughed Blaise from behind them. Draco kicked at his knee. 

“I said, ‘Theo and to see what’s on the other side,’ and it worked. It might be broken, that was the same question as before,” Theo said, and the door did swing open; whether from Theo’s answer or Blaise’s, they wouldn’t know. 

The door opened up to a large round room. Draco now saw why Theo had said he thought they were on the West end. He thought he could just see the fountain out the huge windows. He walked over to them and looked out at the landscape below. 

He guessed the staircase had to be magical because they seemed a lot higher up than they’d originally climbed. Rain was falling steadily along the lawn below. Inside the room, there was more variety in book covers than previously seen in the rest of the library downstairs. These were definitely magical books; an ink and quill lay abandoned on a desk in the middle of the room atop pages of random parchment. 

“But why does this exist?” Draco turned to face the rest of the room, eying the books and shelves curiously. Theo stood just inside the doorway and Blaise walked around speechless. The wooden floors were dusty and there was a tiny, broken looking fireplace opposite the door. A beat up armchair sat next to the fireplace.

“Dunno really,” Theo shrugged, “but I’m guessing some witches or wizards made it back in the day. It looks like it hasn’t been touched in years.” He walked over to the table and pushed around some parchment. More quills looked dried up on the floor next to the table. “I didn’t really look around when I found it.” 

Draco looked at the shelves of books with a smile. He could finally read real quality books again. He stopped to peruse through a section of books on magical body charms and pulled out a copy. Hey, maybe something in here would help him cover up his fucking mark better. 

“Well, we could probably start practicing here instead, it's ample space at least,” Blaise said from the windows. Theo stopped rifling papers and stopped to read a section. 

“It’s probably well-guarded, I could see if a Ward Detection Spell would reveal any fortifications but if the spells are too old it might not detect them,” Blaise was examining the seals around the windows. “Who knows, there might be something interesting locked away in these books or something.” 

Theo walked over to him. “Here,” Theo handing him the folded paper. “Looks like something from first war era. Interesting information indeed.” 

Blaise’s face was stern as he took the page to read it. It was an old copy of the Daily Prophet newspaper and it was stained in black ink on one side. The portion of the article that was still visible was a headline stating: 3 More Found Dead in Kent. The boys exchanged glances. 

“Can we just put a bed in here and then I won’t have to bother you with waking up for classes and such?” Draco laughed, flipping through the book in his hands. “What did you say about Kent?” 

Blaise read the article title again and Draco just sighed. “How come we can’t find anything cool without it being tainted with war shit?” He walked over to the armchair and considered sitting down before thinking better of it. 

“Okay, no bed. But can we at least transfigure this place to be comfortable?” Draco asked, realizing he couldn’t do it on his own without his wand; his transfiguration was not that good. 

“Maybe you’ll be of use then for once,” Blaise laughed. “Who knows, with these old books maybe you’ll learn a thing or two about the world.” 

“Highly unlikely,” Draco scoffed, his nose still in his book. Theo and Blaise snickered. 

“Nice find,” Blaise said to Theo. “That book he’s reading. I’ve seen it before. That Gryffindor ghost carries it around with him. Think this place could really be that old?”

Draco had been listening the whole time and while he couldn’t even recall what the Gryffindor ghost even looked like let alone his book, he quickly went to the inside front cover. It couldn’t hurt to look for the copyright date. It was from 1621. How old was this place? 

…

Hermione sat at her desk overlooking the grounds and fountain below. It was Friday of the following week after she had turned back papers and the last day of meetings. All week she had struggled with talking to students about their papers, many of them ill prepared for just what Sterns’ actually wanted from them. 

She had already talked with ten students in the last two hours, no doubt the kids who had put off this discussion as long as possible. She was only scheduled for another hour or so but she was already drained.

As she looked out the window, the sun glazed the water in the fountain beautifully. She wanted nothing more than to go outside and enjoy the rest of the day. With all the rain at the middle of the week, it was lucky they got nice weather for the weekend.

She sipped from her coffee mug and continued to look distractedly out the window, hoping no one else would show up, when the faintest of knocks came to her ears. As she slowly took her eyes away from the paradise outside the window, his figure glided into the room in full view, a horrid grin across his pointed face. Her eyes narrowed and she was brought back to reality. 

She had been dreading this day since last week when she gave Blaise his paper. She had hoped he would have the right mind to stay away, just avoid it all together to spare himself. Friday was the last day and she had a ray of hope when she hadn’t seen his name on the list. 

But she had been wrong. He had clearly seen this as another opportunity to really piss her off, his smile trying to distract her from his real motives. She could read him easily. 

“I don’t know what to be more surprised of, that you bothered to show up here at all or that you bothered to knock,” she hissed, putting her cup down much harder than necessary. 

“Well, I can’t very well be rude when someone invites me so graciously to her office, now can I?” He took a seat opposite her and put his feet up on her desk. She glared, analyzing his wrinkle-free slacks and still muddy boots hanging on her desk. They were dropping tiny bits of dirt on her notebooks. 

He ran a hand through his hair and it jostled a joint that was tucked behind his ear. Hermione scoffed, pushing out the thought that he looked like a storybook villain, albeit a decently attractive one. 

She yanked the notebook out from under his feet and he lifted them smiling. Hermione narrowed her eyes again. “‘Invite’ is a strong word and I don’t think gracious is how I sounded about it either. I didn’t know Blaise was hard of hearing, I’ll have to remember that next time I want something to get back to you.” 

Her words were biting. Draco watched her confidently. “Well I definitely will relay the message, he’ll be crushed to hear you make fun of him.” 

“Both of you can just go to hell, I don’t care, now leave my office before I make you,” Hermione spat, folding her arms. 

“Was that a threat? Now, now, you should watch yourself. Wouldn’t want to make the wrong impression on the wrong people. Sterns knows my father, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to fail a class would you?” Draco looked at her sincerely. 

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times. She was furious, the retorts and defenses were sprinting through her mind, eager to escape. She was tired of him walking on everyone, tired that on her he walked especially hard. As she gripped the edge of the desk and stood, she felt a rush of magic to her clenched fingers and let go quickly. 

She took a deep breath to keep the magic from leaving her body like it felt like it wanted to. She had to think logically; the only solution wasn’t appealing however. The only way she could deal with this would be to at least pretend to go through the discussion and try to get him gone as fast as possible. This wasn’t going to be easy.

She sighed heavily as she sat back down. “Give me your paper then, I need to know what we’re discussing,” she reached a reluctant hand forward. 

He took his feet off her desk then and swung them down to stand. He took two steps forward so he was right against the desk and looked at her. “It’s rather interesting seeing you behind a desk, you look way too powerful.” 

“But from up here,” he said, bringing his voice to almost a whisper, “I like my odds.” 

Hermione dared him to act up, her hand waiting impatiently open for his paper. He reached behind him to his back pocket and pulled out the small piece of brown parchment. He leaned across the desk to give it to her and didn’t let go right away. She pulled too hard and he let it go suddenly with a smile as she fell back into her chair. 

He turned on his heel and hurried quickly from the room without saying anything more. Hermione looked incredulous; she was about to yell, but she thought better. He’s out of my hair at least, good riddance. She looked back at the crumbled page still in her hands, still frustrated. But soon her frustration was replaced with curiosity.

There was only one paragraph on the page written in a small but very neat and curling hand. It didn’t look like much, the page was only three sentences, but what it did hold both frightened and angered her:

When you lust after something you cannot have, like Gatsby does to Daisy, you are led to insanity. The only way for Gatsby to escape insanity was death. Sometimes heroes have to want to die.

Underneath it was the only red Sterns had written on the whole piece:

No discussion needed. 

She ripped the page in half. 

…

Draco was in the living room lying on the piano bench, his feet draped onto the top of the instrument in a haphazard way. He made it look comfortable. He was reading a book and there was the faint sound of the piano playing without the keys actually moving. 

Blaise walked through the front door then, not looking too happy; he threw his backpack to the floor roughly and sprawled in an armchair. He hadn’t noticed Draco and sighed heavily into his hands. 

“Well I don’t want to interrupt your end of the day self-reflection, but if it’s any consolation I was here first,” Draco said quietly, not looking up. Blaise almost jumped.

Blaise sat up straight. “Merlin, you’re as creepy as your father sneaking up on us, so unnecessary. Have you been there all day lurking or only just recently?” 

“I’m not like my father,” Draco’s voice was low and aggressive. “And if you must know, I was actually doing work earlier today.”

“No you didn’t,” Blaise sat up, crossing his arms. “You never do work. Why is today any different?”

“Because it was the last day to get our meetings this week and I’d hate to worry about my paper all weekend, obviously,” smiled Draco viciously, lifting his eyes up from the page he was on. Blaise frowned. 

“Oh Merlin, you didn’t. Please tell me her office is still standing,” Blaise asked furiously. Draco threw the book down and stood up, the piano music stopping. He walked down the step to the living room and sat opposite Blaise. 

“Oh, I was as charming as ever, why would you think otherwise? It’s like you don’t trust me you know,” Draco threw his legs over the arm of the chair. 

“Draco,” Blaise threatened. 

Draco only laughed. “Oh, come on. I wasn’t mean, I promise. I told her all about how I was so nicely invited. She’s not very happy with you telling me, but, I doubt that’s of any concern, I told her we’d work on it,” Draco looked over at Blaise whose face was red with anger. “Hey, she tried to kick me out by the way, so there’s that. Wasn’t even going to help me.” 

“I can’t believe you. Like you would actually accept her help, Merlin you are so vile,” Blaise shook his head before getting up, grabbing his bag and heading for the kitchen. 

“Oh I would have accepted it fine, if I would have needed any,” Draco snickered. “However, Sterns wrote himself that I didn’t, so I honestly won all around, didn’t I?” 

Blaise looked over from the doorway, his eyes on fire. “You really are turning out to be quite the death eater’s son, aren’t you? I’m sure your dad would be proud.” 

Blaise left without a word, the ghost of Draco’s smile looking ghastly on his features; the dark mark on his arm gave a twitch.


	7. Coffee Breaks & Civility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is unexpectedly surprised in the coffee line and wonders about ulterior motives as a certain blonde finally shows up to class.   
> Ginny also lets her sensitive side show as she pines over missing Harry.

The door slammed behind her as she threw her backpack across the floor. It slid with a whip under the couch. The lamp on the table beside it shook and wobbled for a few moments. It had only been half an hour since her encounter with prince charming himself and she was beside herself with confusion. Hermione stormed over to the window and stared with her hands on the glass. 

A giant puff of breath escaped her mouth. It fogged the window in front of her and she looked back at her reflection. Her brown eyes looked distressed as they stared back. When she brought her hands to her face, her cheeks were hot. This boy is driving me absolutely insane and I have no idea what to do. 

She stood by the window, looking at the little people milling around outside. The grocery store across the street had a display of pumpkins that practically spilled onto the sidewalk. Colors swirled below in the rush of autumn festivities; Halloween was only two weeks away. When she looked to the sky, the swirling grey only reminded her of his eyes. 

She sighed. Okay Hermione, relax. You can’t keep letting him get to you like this. But even in her own head she couldn’t stop her interest either. His paper was a frighteningly accurate analysis and it revealed that she underestimated his intelligence. 

When she actually calmed down enough to think about what he wrote, it intrigued her more than she’d admit.“Sometimes heroes have to want to die.” That’s both a noble and morbid option for a hero, Hermione thought.

He doesn’t strike me as the hero type, she reasoned. 

Hermione was still pacing back and forth in front of the windows when Erin knocked on the door. Hermione answered it half heartedly and the girl came waltzing in carrying a large pumpkin. 

Hermione didn’t bother to greet her. Erin placed the pumpkin on the counter as Hermione collapsed on the couch. Her bushy hair sprawled out more than normal and she was rubbing her forehead. 

Erin cocked an eyebrow. “I have a feeling your day didn’t go well?”

Hermione held up her fingers so close together they were practically touching. “I was this close to leaving my stuffy office and finally getting away from all the student discussions. This close,” she said again for emphasis. “And then he comes waltzing in, with his fucking sweet talk and entitlement.” 

“Sweet talking eh? I bet that’s not all he can do with his mouth,” Erin was busy making them some coffee so she missed the look Hermione shot at her. “Did you yell at him again?” she asked as Hermione got up and took a seat at the counter. 

“Sort of,” Hermione was growing agitated again. “But see, that’s the thing, I think he actually likes when I yell. He just looks at me with these eyes like he’s getting off. God, he just wanted to rub it in my face. He got an A, he didn’t even need to come for a discussion!” 

Erin chuckled as she poured water into the filter. “He’s a man after your own heart Hermione, gushing over grades. Are you going to go after him yet or not?”

Hermione drummed her fingers on the counter, her chin in her hand. “No. I won’t be tempted by his manipulation- he does it to everyone. And I know it bothers him that I see right through it. I just wish I knew why he has to act so daft...” 

Erin set two mugs in front of Hermione on the counter then placed a hand on top of Hermione’s still drumming fingers. “Everybody’s got skeletons in their closets Hermione. If you can’t stop thinking about him maybe there is something more to him. Maybe you really do want to consider actually having a normal conversation with him,” Erin suggested and she squeezed Hermione’s hand one last time before turning back to the coffee pot. 

Hermione took a deep breath, heeding Erin’s words. She watched the black liquid drip into the carafe. He was like a tricky riddle or the toughest of papers. There were all these pieces she was trying to put together. But if she didn’t watch it, she would be in trouble because she had quite the knack for always having to figure things out.

He was manipulative, that was for sure; his good looks and diction made it easy to overlook his arrogance. But was that the real him? And if it wasn’t, what was he hiding behind that almost crazy superiority he held? Her mind reeled as she stirred cream into her coffee.   
“Hermione, hello? You’re spilling it everywhere,” Erin said, grabbing a rag from the sink. Hermione blinked at the mess in front of her and sighed. 

“Sorry,” she managed, taking the rag and wiping up the coffee.

“Nah, it’s my fault. I got you thinking about what skeletons he could be hiding,” Erin leaned on the counter. “I know how your mind works, you can’t stop.” Hermione gave a weak smile. 

Erin was thinking. “Maybe he’s a criminal or something, and he’s on the run. Or he’s in witness protection. Or maybe he’s just so rich he doesn’t give a shit. All possibilities.” 

“True,” Hermione gave a small chuckle. “I’m not sure which of those I’m hoping it is.” 

Erin smiled. “Maybe it’s not like that and he’s just like, heavy into BDSM.” 

Hermione’s mouth dropped open and Erin just laughed. “Or he’s just insecure,” Erin reasoned, “That’s usually a good reason why people act like shit.” 

Hermione considered this for what felt like the first time. It was difficult to think a person so full of arrogant confidence would be insecure about anything. He made it clear he was wealthy, had a vivacious social life, good grades, and girls. But everyone had insecurities. Even those that seemed like they had everything. 

Hermione stared at her coffee cup, hugging the sides. “I have some homework to do, but maybe later we can watch a movie or something?” Erin looked at Hermione for confirmation.

Hermione nodded and Erin took her coffee mug and walked towards the door. “Who knows, maybe he doesn’t know he’s gay?” With a grateful laugh Hermione watched Erin disappear through the door. 

Hermione sat for another minute before deciding to fish her bag out from under the couch. She worked on an essay to distract her busy mind well through the evening. She only let her mind wander twice, but both times she found her thoughts full. 

Erin had come over to watch a movie and they ate dinner on the couch. Hermione spent another hour afterward studying and then climbed into bed, exhausted. But she couldn’t sleep. She stopped staring out the window when the sky reminded her of the mud on his boots. She rolled over. 

What am I going to do? She thought. This was only the first paper he had handed in, and ‘paper’ was a generous term; it was three sentences. Would he get the same grades on everything, destined to be better than Hermione had been? The thought bothered her, but maybe he wouldn’t show up to her office again. 

She got up and grabbed her bag then, fishing around for the two halves of brown parchment. They were crinkled from her thrusting them inside with too much force earlier after she had sat for twenty minutes puzzling over what he wrote. Not to mention the fact he wrote it on what looked like butcher paper. 

Maybe this is why I think he’s hiding something, she told herself then, taking the halves and holding them together so she could reread it again. ‘Sometimes heroes have to want to die.’

Hermione frowned; even though she greatly disliked him, it was a very bold statement. Did he realize it made him almost human? And what did it reveal about him as a person? 

Was he lusting after something, possibly her, like Erin always suggested? Did he see himself as a hero? Did he want to die? Or was just a metaphor, just an analysis... She hoped for the latter. 

She remembered after twenty minutes of being angry this afternoon, she was actually regretting that she made him leave. His paper really would have made the most stimulating discussion. And maybe it would have answered some of her questions about him too. 

But I guess I’ll never know unless I try to actually speak civilly with him, she sighed annoyed. She was at the end of her wits. Hermione tossed his paper onto her desk with disregard and a small jet of light shot from her fingertips. The rest of the papers lying on her desk scattered around the room. 

It seemed her magic was getting away from her more often these days. And she had to wonder, as she kneeled down to pick up the papers: Was it just coincidence that she always happened to be thinking of him when it happened? It was a very curious thing… 

…

Draco sat in the newly furnished library Theo had discovered, lazily reading from the same body enchantment book he had found on their first visit. Blaise had refused to give him use of his wand to clean and furnish the place himself. So instead Draco sat watching, insisting the entire time how much faster he would have it done if he didn’t have to be directing Blaise. Theo took over to prevent another fight and Blaise was thankful.

The four large windows that reached the floor on the left had been cleaned. The first sunlight they had seen in a long time was streaming through. They had removed all the dust from the shelves and desk and the fireplace had been scourgified many times. 

Wind was gusting through campus today, making a light howling noise against the roof. It was calming to someone so entranced by their book. Draco didn’t notice when the door swung open and Theo emerged from below. 

“Oi, do you do anything but read lately?” he approached Draco, who looked up at the sudden noise. Theo flopped down on the new couch they had placed by the fireplace.

“It’s nice to see you too Theo, what dismal news have you today, dare I ask,” Draco drawled, not putting the book away. “I don’t know why you didn’t just wake us up this morning instead of going to fucking class like a freaking first year.” 

“Well maybe because to actually look like we fit in here we need to look like students. Or maybe because I know how much you enjoy Blaise waking you up. I’d hate to intrude, it’s like the highlight of his day,” Theo joked with a grin. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“But anyway, I didn’t want to miss my boxing class, I actually like it a lot. Gets out a lot of aggression,” Theo mentioned. Draco just thought of their fathers. “And we should wait for Blaise, he’ll want to hear this.” 

Theo got up from the couch to look out the window for Blaise. They had placed extra cloaking charms on the windows so no one would detect the wing. There was just enough of a view that they could see the entrance to the library and the path leading around it.

“Aye mate, lookie here,” chuckled Theo after a few moments. Draco stood stretching. 

“What’s so interesting?” Draco closed the book and walked over. “Unless like, a muggle fell over and dropped all his books, then I probably don’t care.” Theo pointed and Draco followed it.

There was Blaise sitting on a bench chatting to a girl beside him. The girl’s scarf hung loosely around her neck and her long brown curls were bushy, swirling in the wind. Draco recognized her easily. He raised an interested eyebrow and stared.

The shade from the tree behind her was too weak to cover the streaming sun that illuminated her features. A smile was on her face and a book lay open in her lap. She talked with her hands, almost spilling her coffee. She looked very pretty sitting there. Blaise seemed to think so too; he couldn’t stop smiling and laughing. Draco gave him an icy look. 

“Is that a hint of jealousy I suspect?” Theo raised a knowing eyebrow as he watched Draco.

It was Theo’s comment that finally tore Draco’s eyes away. He turned his back to the windows, trying to regain his composure. “I am not jealous.” Theo rolled his eyes. 

Draco took a deep breath. Unwelcome thoughts had found their way into his mind. They had no place there. Sure, she was pretty to look at, but she wasn’t attractive, not like that, not to him. And he wasn’t jealous by any means. He would never be, not for a muggle. And definitely not of Blaise either. 

“He’s probably apologizing to her for my behavior to her in her office, I’m sure of it,” Draco’s voice was mocking as he turned back to Theo. Theo had leaned against the window to face Draco, arms crossed. “He likes her you know.”

Theo eyed him. “You’re planning to sabotage him, aren’t you?” 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Draco smirked. “You know how much I like to,” he paused, trying to find the right word, “distract Blaise’s girls from him, show them their options you know.” 

In their years at Hogwarts Draco had “distracted” quite a few girls from Blaise; most of the time it wasn’t on purpose. However, there were definitely occasions where it had been. And now, with Blaise chatting away with her, he wanted to show her the better choice.

“Theo, it might be time for a little distracting,” Draco laughed to himself, his smirk looking wolfish. This could be very entertaining. Plus, winning the bet with her of all people would make Blaise furious. 

Theo stood there shaking his head, unsure of what just happened. 

…

“What took you so long mate, did that muggle from the other night spy you in the café or something?” Draco played dumb when Blaise walked into the room fifteen minutes later. 

“No I wasn’t talking to Jess. I was doing extra credit work for calc and I lost track of time. Sorry,” Blaise said, the tone of his voice defensive.

“Interesting,” Draco said then, looking over at Theo with raised eyebrows. Blaise didn’t notice and walked in, throwing his bag in a corner and approaching Theo. 

“So, what’s up, what happened last night Theo?” Blaise asked, hands on his hips. Theo had left a note in the kitchen this morning to meet at the library after class. He had some news to share. 

“My mum’s patronus showed up last night, I had almost forgotten what it was. It nearly scared the shit out of me,” he explained. 

Draco put the book down and walked over to join the boys. “She couldn’t say much, it was a little risky for her to send one. Apparently my brother and Crabbe got jumped by some from the Order last night.” He spoke solemnly. 

Draco looked apologetic, but deep down he knew he couldn’t blame the Order for trying to do something, anything. Blaise’s face was hard. 

“They’re alright,” Theo said quickly. “They got away at least. The only other thing she had time to say was that You-Know-Who’s not happy about an attack on our own. He’s going to start fixing the problem areas, get things moving.” The words sounded hollow and the boys were silent for a while. 

As Draco thought about all the gruesome things that could possibly mean ‘fix the problem’ to death eaters, he grew worried. “That’s all we have to go off of? A band of psycho purgers wants to ‘fix’ a problem? That could go pretty badly, don’t you think?” Draco said what they were all thinking. 

“Yes. Exactly. Glad you’re finally catching on. This is going to be a big problem; think they are going to start working on getting Hogwarts up and running?” Blaise asked, suspicion flooded the tone of his voice.

“I have no idea. It definitely could,” Theo walked over and put his fist on a window. “I hate that we’re in the dark.” His words mirrored the frustration forming on his features. 

“Think we can run back, before we get the shaft for defecting?” Draco said sarcastically. He knew they could never go back. 

“Not funny,” Blaise glared. “All we’ve been doing is sitting here, not even bothering to get any more information or help out our friends, anything really! Even a propaganda filled Daily Prophet would be grand right now,” He began to pace as he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“Unless there’s an owl hidden in your backpack, we aren’t getting a newspaper anytime soon,” Theo said, “it’s too risky anyway. Same with floo.”

“And they know our patronuses, it’s not like we can change those easily,” Draco threw in, reminding them of another useful piece of information. Not that he was very good at making one anyway. 

An uneasy shadow hung on Theo’s drawn face. Draco’s mouth became a line as he became lost in thought. He knew what length the death eaters would go in order to protect their own. He turned away, his eyes falling on a shelf of books.

“Well we aren’t exactly the stupidest three wizards in the world,” Draco said then, recalling a section of books on Magical Translocation somewhere on the far wall. He walked over to where he thought it was. 

“I’m sure we can find a way to get hold of information without being noticed. We’re in a fucking magical library that’s old as time; there’s got to be something here,” Draco suggested, pulling out a volume.

Theo and Blaise looked at each other blinking. “This is serious mate. We could get killed or tortured or, I don’t even know, but if they even suspected us being here, or us trying to figure out their plans, we would be screwed.” It was Theo who spoke, warning in his voice. 

“I am aware. But I also think with a little research,” Draco tossing the book to Blaise who caught it easily, “we might come up with something. We can devise a plan, the perfect strategy. It’s like I’ve said before, the death eaters have lost some of their more hopeful recruits,” he said, gesturing to the three of them. “They don’t call Slytherin cunning for nothing.” 

Theo and Blaise sighed, realizing it was probably their only option. “We can’t forget the Order would love to get their hands on us too,” Theo reminded him. Draco only nodded. Blaise looked contemplative before walking over to Draco and grabbing a book from the shelf he was looking at. 

“Well for what it’s worth, it’s your neck we’re going to risk then,” Blaise said, opening the book and flipping through to the table of contents. Draco chuckled and turned back to the shelf, his laugh quieting in his throat. There had to be something they could do, they were wizards after all. 

…

As Hermione looked over the planner in her hand, she grabbed a highlighter from her bag and uncapped it. Two weeks after her fiasco in her office with Malfoy, she sat at a table in the quad with scattered pages of notes for her next assignment. 

Her workload was nothing she couldn’t handle, but it didn’t hurt to be well organized and ahead of deadlines anyway. Halloween was this weekend and she wanted it to be worry free. Midterms would be coming the week after and she was going to be beyond prepared, like always. 

The wind was really starting to pick up, and it was becoming useless for her to attempt to study outside much longer. It was sad but she couldn’t be angry; seasons always have to change, she thought to herself. 

She decided it best to go to the library since she still had an hour until Sterns class. She had purposefully come to campus early to get in some extra studying. She gathered her papers up and tried to organize them quickly before they all blew away.

Shouldering her bag and wrapping up her scarf, she went to grab a coffee before going to the library. Nothing like a caffeine jolt to get you going for a study session. There was a line however, so she pulled a notebook loose from her bag to keep reading, not wanting to lose any time. 

After a few minutes the line had only moved a little. The wind seemed to settle behind her, or at least she thought it was settling. Another person had actually gotten in line behind her. She didn’t turn to look but she welcomed the calmer air. As she was rereading the same paragraph for a third time, a cool voice suddenly appeared at her ear and she froze. 

“Do you get the feeling that Gatsby only liked Daisy for her money?” Malfoy’s voice came out as a whisper that curled into a smile. 

Hermione kept staring straight ahead. She knew who it was and didn’t really want to provoke him if she didn’t have to; although, she couldn’t help but think about what he said. Curse my intellect. 

Gatsby was rich himself, Malfoy didn’t make any sense. “Well she represented that to him when he was young and poor; riches and status, she had these things,” she said, only turning her head over her shoulder enough to just see his smirking face. 

It annoyed her to no end but she couldn’t not talk about the book. “I’m surprised you don’t seem to like his character, I figured a rich socialite throwing parties in his mansion would be right up your alley.”

Malfoy just stood there, considering. “Oh, I like his character. Do what it takes to get what you want,” his voice was above a whisper now, but it was still soft through the rushing wind around them. It almost made her want to turn around. 

He leaned towards her again. “But he’s no hero, that’s for sure.” The proximity made a shiver run down her spine.

She huffed and pulled her bag further up her arm. She still didn’t turn around; she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “So if he’s not the hero who is, and why should he want to die?” Hermione challenged, bringing up the line from his paper. 

“Nick Carraway of course, our unnoticed hero,” suggested Malfoy. She could hear the smirk in his words. She finally turned and his eyes were a misty gray that matched the sky. The hint of temptation in them caused her jaw to hang open.

She wanted to be mad at him, but this time she couldn’t. Here he was, hands in his pockets, speaking civilly. And he was talking logically about a novel, something she rather appreciated. To say she was surprised was an understatement.

“As much as I’m impressed that you read the whole book through and that you can actually hold a conversation, you do realize this is what you were supposed to be doing in my office two weeks ago?” She felt like it was a light enough jab for their current conversation. 

“You already are aware how much I enjoy libraries and the book was short,” Malfoy reminded her, nodding to the counter that was now open. The clerk was waiting to take her order. 

She narrowed her eyes at the mention of the library and turned around to order. Hermione missed seeing the small smile creep to his lips and the glance he exchanged with the delighted looking clerk. He gave her a short, jovial wave. 

As Hermione waited for her coffee, Malfoy spoke again. “As for conversations, you don’t seem to have any problem with talking to Blaise. Him and I aren’t much different.” 

“Yes, well he’s civil, unlike you, who seems to think spilled drinks warrants death threats,” Hermione countered over her shoulder. 

The clerk was back and was handing the coffee cup over as Malfoy took two steps forward. Hermione froze. His airy voice felt almost intoxicating in their proximity and she held her breath in anticipation. 

“You see, I have a bad habit of appearing as anything but civil,” Malfoy smiled at her as he took the coffee from the clerk, proving his point. “Cheers,” he said, and he turned and walked away. Hermione was left in his wake, her mouth gaping and her hand coffee-less.

Hermione blinked a few times, trying to comprehend all that just happened. When she turned back to the counter, the clerk already had another coffee ready for her. Hermione stared, confused, but the woman only smiled. Hermione took the new cup then and when she tried to pay, the woman just chuckled. 

The clerk pointed across the quad and shrugged, already helping the next person in line. Hermione shuffled out of the way and followed the woman’s finger. Just disappearing into the South Hall building was Malfoy, coffee in hand. 

Hermione was speechless. It was his intention the whole time to steal her coffee. He had been one step ahead of her and, while she wanted to be angry, she couldn’t say no to free coffee. She fought a small smile as she took a reluctant sip and headed for the library. What a way to be civil… 

…

Draco brought the cup to his lips for the first time as he stepped inside the doors. He smirked to himself as he sipped her coffee, not surprised by her flavor choice- pumpkin. He was reminded of breakfast in the Great Hall. 

Draco really didn’t have anywhere to go; there was a little under an hour until Sterns’ class and he had to let her stew a bit. He had seen her on campus only moments before. When she had gotten in line for coffee, he had seen his chance.

It had been the perfect opportunity and with her coffee now in his hands, he was fairly certain he succeeded. It was easy enough to pay the clerk ahead of time; the woman was giddy at his seemingly romantic gesture and she’d been too busy reading to notice. 

It had been almost too easy and he loved seeing her cheeks catch with blush as he talked. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind when he revealed his analytical side. Looks like I found the one person who could be better at school than me, he mused. 

He had actually enjoyed talking to her, she at least was smart. She was probably going to come up with a million new things about The Great Gatsby and he knew it was because of him. Draco continued to walk down the hall, a skip in his step.

He had distracted her enough to make her think twice about him- and that was all he needed. Hopefully Blaise and her own curiosity would work out the rest. He was putting a little bit of a risk in deciding to use her for the bet, but it would all be worth it if he could fool Blaise. 

As he reached the end of the hall, he took the door to his right, which opened once again to the quad. The wind was still blowing and he pulled the collar of his jacket closer. He glanced at the large clock outside the café and couldn’t decide if he really wanted to go to class in half an hour or not. 

He looked around the vicinity of the café and, seeing she was nowhere in sight, smiled to himself. He didn’t feel like going to class and sitting through Sterns lecture but, what better way to get her irritated further than show up for once?

Only time will tell, he thought then, walking to the lecture hall. He ducked inside the doors quickly, his ears thankful to be met with the silence instead of the rush of wind. Draco walked to class slowly, wondering what Blaise would think when he saw Draco was on time for once. 

Draco made his way to the hall and took a seat just outside. There was still over 20 minutes until class started. So he took out a book titled, Communication for the Curious Spellsman, dated from 1650. 

He opened it easily to the page he was on and glanced around the room. With an inconspicuous wave of his hand, the title changed to Shakespeare’s, Taming of the Shrew. He smiled and sipped the coffee in his hand. 

…

Blaise rounded the corner of the path outside the lecture hall. He had been so wrapped up in last minutes studying, he hadn’t realized he had only 5 minutes to get to class. His head flying with derivations and complicated formulas, he almost didn’t have time to process the woman behind him, who seemed to share in his tardiness. 

She was barreling down the path, a copy of The Great Gatsby open in front of her face. Blaise only realized who it was when she bumped into him trying to get through the doors herself. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, I must have not been paying attention, I-” she said quickly before Hermione registered the face. 

“No worries, but I assumed you would have finished that book a while ago since we’ve already turned in our papers,” Blaise said smiling, referring to the tattered copy in her hands. 

“Good books are always worth a reread,” she said, closing it. She looked uncomfortable as Blaise held the door open for her, but she waited for him on the other side anyway. 

“So I don’t think I care to know the answer, but if Malfoy can make it to campus well before class starts, how come he is absent from this class more than not?” Hermione asked bluntly. 

“Even when he’s not around I can’t get away from the git,” Blaise said jokingly. They looked at each other then and laughed. “Where did you see him this morning and do I dare ask about his behavior?” 

“In line for the café actually,” she said, with the slightest annoyed smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m surprised he actually read the book and wanted to talk about it, but he still can’t seem to get off that high horse he’s on, can he?” Blaise chuckled at her words, hiding his suspicions. 

Malfoy was up to something and Blaise didn’t like the sound of it. “Trust me, you don’t want to see him off his high horse. He can’t stand on his own for shit,” Blaise said, hoping she would take his word for it. Hermione laughed, but didn’t have time for a response.

As they approached the right room, there was the boy in question; he was leaning against the wall outside the door as his classmates pushed their way inside to avoid being late. An interesting looking, purple bound book was open in his hand and Hermione’s coffee in the other. 

Hermione and Blaise’s faces held the same, confused expression when they saw him. He was smiling, despite not lifting his eyes off the page he was on. Blaise held his breath as they approached the door, knowing then that Malfoy planned all of this. 

“Good Morning Blaise, and, I don’t even know your name actually, but since you’re both late, we don’t have time for it. Come on, chop chop,” he stated, gesturing for the door. And with that he closed the book, put it under his arm, and strolled inside ahead of them. 

“We are late,” Blaise pointed out, an apologetic look on his face as they both bolted inside. 

Hermione saw the blonde just in front of her. He turned to her over his shoulder, “Good second read, I imagine?” his chin gestured to the book in her hands. He smirked as she rolled her eyes and he was gone. 

“And I let him buy my coffee this morning,” she sighed, shaking her head. The look she gave was soft on top of slight exasperation. She quickly went off to the left, leaving Blaise in the doorway behind her. 

… 

Blaise took his seat and got his notebook out before glancing at Draco. Draco looked much as he always did, his legs crossed on the chair in front of him, a coffee in his hand, and no books besides the one he had been reading outside the door. And yet, a smirk lingered on his mouth.

Draco leaned towards Blaise in a whisper. “Do you think she’d like it if I called her Katherina? It’s fun to play at taming,” he laughed. 

Blaise’s eyes narrowed. “Her name is Hermione. Hermione Granger, I’m sure you can use her real name since you were so nice to her this morning in the cafe line.” 

His remark was bitter, not because Draco had talked to her but more so because Draco always seem to think he could walk all over everyone, especially his friends. It was getting tiresome. 

Draco tried to stifle his laughter as he practically choked on the sip of coffee he had taken. A few people looked over and he made eye contact with them to show he was alright. “You sound a little put off, no?” he said when he could speak. 

“Oh not at all. I’m just busy trying to pay attention as well as figure out your real agenda, since she is definitely not the right girl for you to try to fake this bet on,” Blaise’s voice was accusatory. “You won’t convince me just by having little discussions with her.”

“Ha, please. It was hardly a conversation, we talked of the book. She does have good taste in coffee though,” said Draco, tipping his cup towards Blaise as if they were clinking glasses.

“You stole her coffee, are you mad?” Blaise said then, a little too loud. Sterns looked over at them with a hard glare. Blaise looked away, apologetic; Draco smiled. The lecture continued and Blaise bent over his notebook, refusing to look at the man sitting next to him. 

Draco wasn’t listening anyway. His eyes had wandered to the far side of the room. As he stared at the brunette, who was obviously doing her best to keep her eyes facing forward, she stole a look his way. 

She was embarrassed to catch his eye. She was quick to look away, but before she could, Draco tipped the coffee in his hand towards her. She looked annoyed as he fought a faint smile curling up one side of her mouth. She didn’t look over for the rest of the class. 

… 

Hermione sat at the kitchen counter looking over her planner, all her papers neatly lined up in front of her. It had been hours since she left class and she was still reeling. It seemed any pause in her work was filled with annoyance, confusion, and curiosity. 

Why wasn’t Malfoy cordial and talking about books all the time? It was irritating to see this side of him. She felt flustered; she couldn’t comprehend that, while he was still pompous as shit, she felt his mind would be so interesting to pick. 

And then she thought of Blaise. He had seemed uncomfortable, but making it difficult for his best friend to talk to girls seemed to be a likely pastime for the overly popular blonde. She could see his mind working on the best ways to piss off his friends. Although she wasn’t sure she was happy realizing it, as she did really find Blaise a nice, attractive young man. 

Suddenly the intercom buzzed and Ginny’s voice filled the room. “Oi, Hermione we’re here, open up please!” Her voice shook slightly in her throat and Hermione came quickly back to reality. 

Hermione rushed over to push the unlock button, knowing she didn’t need to respond for them to know they could come right up. She hoped she had just imagined Ginny’s voice waver.

The door opened in a minute and Ginny’s red hair was a flash of color across the room. She curled up on the nearest armchair and hugged her knees, looking like she was about to cry. 

Hermione had grown to love the closeness the girls had for how soon into their friendship it was; it was almost as if they were destined to become friends. Which is what made Hermione so distressed then, to see Ginny on the verge of a breakdown. 

Luna followed Ginny into the apartment, a little less jovial than her usual self. Her mouth was a straight line across her small, thin face. Some tears began to spill out of Ginny’s eyes and Hermione was horrified. “What-?” she started, but Luna spoke up.

“It’s her brother, Ronald, that and Harry. They haven’t gotten back to us yet and they’ve been gone quite some time now,” Luna said softly. 

Hermione remembered hearing about Ginny’s boyfriend Harry, but didn’t know the context of why he wasn’t here with her. She had originally stated they’d all gone to university together before protests and riots had made it unsafe. 

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, where are they exactly?” Hermione prompted, hoping it wouldn’t bring more tears. She went to the kitchen, putting a pot of tea on the stove. When Hermione came over, she hesitated behind the armchair and put a hand on Ginny’s shoulder. 

Ginny sniffed, her tears still falling lightly; it seemed she had been holding them in most of the day. “They, they’re on a trip, for, for a political rally,” Ginny stated after a sniffle. It was oddly pure to see the strong headed woman in front of her in such vulnerability. 

“You see, Harry is all about the greater good,” Ginny continued, choosing her words carefully, “and with... riots and protests lately he just HAS to do something. Not that I’m against that it’s just-” she eyed Hermione quickly, “it’s dangerous! There’s been attacks and I haven’t seen him in months-”

“And we were hoping to hear from him before now,” Luna broke in. Hermione frowned. 

“Well that’s very noble of him,” Hermione said after a moment or so. Her confusion was written across her face, but she didn’t want to push the subject. 

“Yeah, it is. I get that. He has a, a connection with the riots. His parents were- were killed when he was only a baby and… and that led to all the problems. He has a deep connection with this because of it,” Ginny revealed, and it seemed difficult for her to admit his involvement. 

Hermione didn’t want to pester them for more, but her curiosity was skyrocketing; what kind of tragic situation to find your boyfriend in! She wondered what exactly these riots were about and reminded herself to start reading the newspaper again. She hadn’t had time with studying lately. That was going to change. 

Hermione got up to grab the tea, bringing in two steaming mugs for the girls. Luna had a hand on Ginny’s back for sympathy. The rain steadily fell in small sheets over the dying yellow landscape on the distant hills out the window. It echoed the silence in the room. 

Hermione was first to talk. “Ginny, would you… tell me about Harry? I don’t know much about the boy who’s clearly stolen your heart, and he sounds outstanding,” Hermione asked politely, hoping her encouragement would bring fondness instead of sadness.

“Well,” Ginny said slowly, “he’s just so… so admirable. He’s strong and caring. The amount of care he has is insane for one person to have inside them. He never wants anyone to sacrifice for him.” 

“He’s clever too,” Luna said, helping her out.

“Yes,” Ginny chuckled, “he has a habit of being good at things without realizing it. He picks things up so easily. It’s quite remarkable…” Ginny’s eyes were glassy because of her tears but Hermione could see fondness coming to them and it made her happy.

“What does he look like? Handsome I presume,” Hermione mused. 

“Oh he’s so good looking Hermione. He’s tall and he’s got this outrageous black hair, always hanging in his face. I love it,” Ginny said, thinking back on the boy she had to leave.

“Anything else?” Hermione asked, wanting to keep Ginny’s mind occupied on the positives.

“I dunno, it’s just… people see him as this figurehead and I know he’s not sure he can see himself as a leader,” she reasoned. “But when he’s with me or his friends, he’s the opposite. He brags a lot actually.” Ginny laughed. 

“It’s annoying but you know deep down he’s usually right, so you can’t be mad.” The tears on her face had dried and she sighed. “He’s just the best.” 

Hermione smiled. “I’m glad you have such a great person in your life, Ginny. I can’t wait to meet him someday.” Ginny looked up. 

“But if people place as much stock in him as you do, I’d say he’s probably going to be okay and he wouldn’t want you worrying.” Hermione looked earnestly at Ginny, a hand on her arm. 

“Thanks,” Ginny said awkwardly. “And sorry I rushed in here in such a whirlwind.”

“Quite alright. I’m always here if you need, I hope you both know that,” Hermione said easily. 

“Well thanks. It’s just, it’s not like him to not get back to me, but hopefully it’ll work out,” her last words were marked with nervousness but she tried to smile anyway. 

After a few minutes of sitting in silence collecting her thoughts, Ginny spoke again. “Think you could help me with one of my assignments, now that I’m here?” 

It was an abrupt change of subject, but Hermione knew Ginny needed it and obliged. Within an hour the room was littered with the work of Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, all in separate corners of the room.

Ginny got up with a sigh, obviously stuck again, bringing a piece of paper up to Hermione at the counter. She dropped it next to Hermione’s current set of notes with annoyance, leaning on the table in front of Erin’s pumpkin.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Ginny said then, and Hermione looked up from her notes. Ginny gestured to the decorations in the room. 

Besides the pumpkin on the counter, Erin had snuck into Hermione’s apartment last week. She claimed the space just needed something more. So she had taken to hanging up a bunch of black paper bats and white paper ghosts. The window had fake spider webs on the edges.

Erin was so mad in the end that she couldn’t get the bats and ghosts in the kitchen’s high ceiling. It had been too tall for her to reach and thus, left the decor somewhat lopsided. Late at night, Hermione used magic to charm them up there. Erin’s smile the next day had been worth it. She claimed she borrowed a ladder from the Student Association for club stuff; it worked well enough of a cover. 

“Well, Halloween is this weekend. Have you both picked out costumes yet?” Hermione asked as Luna stood to join them. 

“Why do we need costumes?” Ginny wondered out loud. Hermione just laughed. 

“Well for the soccer team’s annual Halloween Party of course! You both have to go, I mean it! It’s one of the best parties all year!” Hermione gushed; she hadn’t wanted to seem so giddy, but she couldn’t help it. It really was one of the biggest and best parties the school held. 

And yet, she could see the disbelief in Ginny and Luna’s eyes. “Okay so every year the soccer team doesn’t have any house parties until Halloween. They have this huge, gorgeous house and they always decorate it and have this amazing punch. Plus, who doesn’t love getting dressed up as someone else?” 

She hated bringing it up when Ginny didn’t have a good day, but maybe it would raise Ginny’s spirits. Maybe the news of a party and the fun of costumes would take her mind off riots and distant boyfriends. 

“I think it sounds grand,” Luna said after a few moments. “I used to make the best costumes for sports games. I have the craziest lion head one, it got me a lot of compliments.” Ginny nodded unconvincingly. Luna didn’t seem to notice. 

“I’m going to have to start planning. Would you like me to make one for each of you as well? I think I could have them all done by Friday night…” Luna looked off into her own imagination. Ginny shook her head furiously at Hermione. 

“I think we’ll pass Luna, wouldn’t want to all match now, would we?” Ginny said, a clever save. Hermione looked apologetic. 

“Well, I haven’t gotten anything yet. I always wait until the last minute, it’s too difficult trying to figure out what to dress up as,” Hermione said, thinking she could always go as her costume from last year. It was ironic almost, that her backup costume was a witch. She smiled to herself. 

She thought about just what else she could be this year; maybe she would actually go shopping with Erin this year. But as she looked back at her planner, the idea of being a witch again seemed appealing. It would leave her with more time to study at least.

“I’ll figure something out, I’m sure. I still have four days, right?” Hermione nervously laughed. “What about you Ginny, what do you fancy yourself in?”

Ginny just raised her eyebrows. “I’m not usually one to dress up, but since it’s tradition and all, I guess I’ll have to.” 

“No worries, Erin has at least a dozen old ones you guys can borrow. She was a fox last year, a nurse before that, and one time she went as a bottle of champagne,” Hermione recalled, the last one being her favorite.

“Alright, alright. Those seem a little much, but at least I know what I’m dealing with. This does sound like a riot, I bet it’ll be a good time. Count us in, just give me the fox ears to wear and we’ll call it a costume,” Ginny mused, but she couldn’t cover up the excitement in her voice. 

All three girls were giddy for the weekend to be here; Hermione’s thoughts reflecting happily on the coming weekend. Now all she had to do was get through this week… 

…

It was nightfall by the time Draco walked in the door, having spent the rest of the day up in the library looking at all the books at his disposal. It had been two days since Sterns’ class and had his delightful conversation with Granger. Blaise had firmly told him he had to be respectful enough to use her name, so he figured her last was better than none. He didn’t want to give them both the satisfaction of a first name.

He threw his coat on the rack by the door and kicked off his shoes hastily, hoping to avoid seeing Blaise. He didn’t feel like discussing where he had been or what he had been doing, the only question Blaise seemed to ask him lately. 

He just always had the same answer; he had been researching in the library, hoping to find some way to get them a newspaper or a message without being detected. But he had no luck. The boys were growing restless.

They were four months without even a bit of news and it was unnerving. What was going on with our families? How much had my dad gotten my mum involved now that I’m gone? Was she killed? He shook the dark thoughts from his mind. He would know if she had been killed, something inside him told him that.

Once in his room, he grabbed an unopened bottle of fire whiskey from a cabinet by the window and poured himself a hefty glass. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sit in a warm bath when there was a knock on his door. He opened it with a wave of his hand, and Theo took a few steps into the room.

Draco hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights yet. Moonlight streamed in from the balcony doors, illuminating Draco’s figure by the fire. “Hey, how are you?” Theo started. 

“I’ve been better, but it’s of no consequence. I’ve been reading through all the books Blaise set out. I’ve now ruled out magic carpets, brooms, vanishing cabinets, invisibility cloaks. I started on displacement potions today, but even though I was top of the class, I doubt Snape could make one that is going to work one hundred percent,” Draco explained, his voice sounding tired.

“Yeah, I thought I had something yesterday, but when I mentioned apparition Blaise just rolled his eyes. We still look like us, you know,” said Theo, sitting down on the small couch facing the fire. He stared at the flames as Draco drank half his glass before responding. The firelight caught Theo’s eyes, which looked weary. 

“Yeah, I thought this would be a good idea you know, but now I’m just annoyed. I wish we had a break from this, but Blaise is persistent,” Draco spoke with the same tired voice as he poured Theo a glass and walked over to hand it to him. Theo took it thankfully. 

“You up for anything fun tonight then, to distract ourselves maybe?” Theo chided, drinking heavily on the glass. 

Despite the fear that wouldn’t leave them alone thinking of the death eaters, they couldn’t spend every waking moment trying to come up with ideas. And alcohol was a great replacement for fear. “Maybe we can even convince Blaise to come out of his cave.” 

Draco laughed. “He definitely needs a night out. I bet I could rouse him. I’ve been a dick to him lately, he’ll probably claim he has to study. Maybe if I apologize, I can convince him,” there was reluctance in his voice. 

“Well, I know Dean from my boxing class said we should come through. He and the rest of that socking team of his or whatever are meeting up at the pub on the corner of Pratt. Could be fun you know,” Theo mentioned. 

Draco recalled Dean, a frequent partier and new friend of Theo because of class. Despite his muggle background, he was a burly athlete on one of the school’s sports teams and he was fun to drink with, albeit a little rowdy. He and his friends were some of the muggles Draco could tolerate for longer spans of time. Dean also shared Draco’s appreciation for girls. 

Draco finished the fire whiskey in his glass in one more large gulp and poured himself another, ignoring the burn of his throat. “You’re right. We should go,” he said breathily. “Plus that kid they call Patches or whatever always has weed and I could really use the relaxation.” 

“It’s settled then, but,” Theo said, getting up to grab the bottle from Draco, “You have to rouse Blaise.” Theo poured a separate glass and handed it to Draco. Draco took it as he left his own room to seek out their third drinking buddy. Maybe he would actually be fun tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's comment about calling Hermione "Katherina" because he doesn't know her name is his idea of a joke. It is based on one of the main characters in Shakespeare's play, Taming of the Shrew. This is also the muggle title Draco transfigures over the title of the magical book he's reading outside class just before. 
> 
> If you have not read the play, it deals with two sisters, Katherina and Bianca. Katherina is older, unruly, and feisty so men have not wanted to marry her. Bianca is young, beautiful, and has many suitors. Their father will not let Bianca marry unless Katherina does first, so one of Bianca's suitors finds Petruchio, a man burly and crazy enough to marry Katherina. His plan is to "tame" this feisty shrew of a woman into loving and obeying him. 
> 
> If you want more of a synopsis, reading it on wikipedia or go watch 10 Things I Hate About You (a movie based on this play with young Heath Ledger ;) )


	8. Halloween, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a Halloween party with alcohol, Slytherins, and an ironic costume for Hermione- nothing can go wrong, can it? Not when you rely on your magic to fix your hair and someone sees it...

Hermione was finishing up the last touches on her paper when Ginny, Luna, and Erin bustled into the apartment carrying several large bags of take out. Hermione looked stressed, her hair a mess of frizz behind her as she rubbed her forehead rereading her draft again. 

“Midterms aren’t due until after fall break, you can do all the work you want then!” Erin shouted, grabbing the papers and shoving everything into a big pile. She then proceeded to take the pile and dump it on Hermione’s desk in her room. Hermione sat, her mouth open ready to protest. 

“Can’t I just finish the one paragraph?! I was almost done!” Hermione squealed, rushing to the open doorway. Erin pulled the door shut before Hermione could get up. She huffed in defeat and put her pen down, only now realizing just how long she had been working.

Erin smiled at Hermione as she walked back out of the apartment and into her own. When Erin reentered a minute later, she carried a large bag. She set it on the floor and began pulling out pieces of clothing and laying them in piles on the couch. Hermione pouted but Erin ignored her. 

“So, basically I told Ginny and Luna you probably didn’t get a costume,” Erin explained, holding up a finger when Hermione tried to defend herself. “And I just can’t let you wear that witch’s costume a third time!” 

Ginny burst out laughing then and it startled everyone in the room. It took her a minute before she slowed her breaths enough to talk. “You have a-a witch costume?!” 

“And what’s so funny about a witch costume? I had a broomstick and everything!” Hermione said, sounding frustrated.

Ginny put the back of her hand to her mouth to attempt to stifle more laughter but she was unsuccessful. The only word they could hear from her was ‘broomstick.’ Luna just rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. 

“And I haven’t worn it three times,” Hermione narrowed her eyes. “I was a mermaid my first year. And you can’t count that one time I had too much tequila and put it on, that’s just unfair!” The embarrassment was thick in her voice. Erin chuckled. 

“Alright, alright, but I think we can come up with something better. Don’t you want to try something new?” Erin’s voice was singsong and she smiled nicely over at Hermione.

“So what are you suggesting I wear then?” Hermione crossed her arms reluctantly. 

“We were going to sort through Erin’s old ones today to find you one,” Luna said, walking over to where all the costumes were. Hermione huffed before getting up to look over the back of the couch. 

“Will you just calm down? You know I won’t let you look anything but stellar,” Erin said sincerely. It was true; every time Hermione had dared to let Erin pick her an outfit, she always brought much more attention to herself than she ever thought was possible. And maybe, with all the stress of midterms and grading weighing her down, it wasn’t such a bad idea. 

Hermione tried to busy herself unpacking the take out containers while Luna and Erin sat going through the costumes. It had only been ten minutes in when she glanced over to see their progress, too impatient. She paused mid forkful of lo mein. Luna was whispering something in Erin’s ear; Erin looked nothing but excited. 

“She has to wear it, like that’s just too funny,” Erin was saying before Hermione got up and cleared her throat. The girls stopped giggling and looked at her. 

“So what is it? What is this brilliant costume? I want to see it before I commit,” she said fiercely. Erin just laughed and stood up. 

“Oh, you’ll love it,” Erin smiled wickedly. “It’s something real classic.” 

Luna was searching through the piles of clothes for her own backpack. It had been discarded when she first arrived but was now buried beneath all the costumes. When she found it she smiled and got up, walking over to Hermione who was still sitting at the counter.

Anticipation was written across her face. Luna placed a gray pleated skirt and a blue necktie in Hermione’s lap. Erin could only howl.

…

Theo stood in the middle of the living room wearing only a small pair of boxer shorts. A dark green bed sheet was falling off his waist and he looked puzzled. “How the fuck does this even work?” 

“No, no,” Blaise said, “That’s definitely not right.” He was sitting on the couch with a bored looking Draco, who was busy flipping through a small leather book he stole from the library. It had a Greek symbol on the spine in light white ink. 

Several volumes now cluttered the coffee table in front of them, a few of which were spilling onto the floor beneath. A large book was open in front of Blaise and he was pointing at a drawing that spanned both pages. Greek Gods and Goddesses were depicted in beautiful golden hues and Blaise’s finger lay on the shoulder of the man in the middle.

“He has it tied up on his shoulder, let me see if I can do it,” Blaise was saying, pulling out his wand. 

“I would not trust Blaise with his wand so close to my ballsack Theo,” Draco stated simply and flipped back and forth between two pages. 

“Shut it Malfoy.” Blaise’s wand was in the air, lines of worry beginning to wrinkle Theo’s face. Theo stood fairly tense as Blaise moved his hand and the fabric began to fold around him. The top of the sheet finally came to rest on his left shoulder, leaving a decent amount of skin exposed on his right side. The hem of his toga went down to his knees as he looked himself up and down. 

“Thanks Blaise, that would have taken ages,” Theo spoke and Draco looked up. 

“Alright, you’re right. That’s not half bad, except it’s supposed to be white,” Draco pointed out. Blaise looked surprised. 

Draco got up, setting his book down on the arm of the couch so he wouldn’t lose his page. He picked up another sheet from near Theo’s feet, this time it was a black one. He had a small smile playing on his lips and Blaise could see his mind working.

“I thought you didn’t like the idea of wearing a toga,” Blaise chided. Draco ignored Blaise’s remark and draped the sheet over his arm. He walked back over to his book and placed the picture face up in Blaise’s lap. 

“That’s before I remembered I’d get to be a God for the night,” he laughed as he turned on his heel and disappeared up the stairs. Blaise looked down at the page; a charcoal sketch of the Greek God Hades glared wickedly back at him wearing a black toga that looked like smoke. 

… 

Hermione stared at herself in the floor length mirror in her room. The light shone in brightly from the street lights outside. She sighed in relief looking at her reflection; Erin had picked another winning outfit that was for sure. 

Hermione had on knee high socks and a fitted, button-up shirt in white, the top two buttons open showing her collar bone. The tie hung loosely knotted around her neck and the skirt was still laying on her bed. She peeked out of her room into the kitchen, to see if the other girls had their costumes on yet. 

Luna sat at the counter and was looking through the ‘spellbook’ from Hermione’s old witch’s costume that had been lying unused on the chair. She had on what looked like a pharaoh’s crown and a set of whiskers painted on her face. The evidence of several pieces of candy lay on the counter in front of her.

Ginny was busy making punch which, once she began pouring it into glasses, was the same color as Luna’s outfit. Ginny had a pearl and shell comb stuck in her wild hair that narrowly missed falling in the pitcher. It matched the white crop top she wore that had two pink seashells drawn on it. Her green jeans completed the outfit; they even had a shimmer effect to them. The top had come from Hermione’s mermaid costume and she smiled.

“Where’s the skirt, you can’t go around stark at the party,” Ginny pointed out then and Hermione blinked as she realized Ginny was in front of her. She handed her a glass and Hermione took it eagerly. It tasted like pumpkin and it was amazing. She gulped down half the cup before remembering it was alcoholic. Ginny laughed. 

“I know right? It’s my mum’s recipe for the holidays. Pumpkin punch, except she thinks I never put alcohol in it,” Ginny told Hermione, winking. 

Luna looked up from the book and tilted her head to the side. “Are you planning on going with just the top then?” 

Ginny laughed. Hermione scoffed before strutting her way back to her room and pulling the skirt on. It fit more snuggly than she thought. “Better?” she laughed, walking back into the room. “It’s shorter than I’d like…” 

“Well, Luna’s not that much smaller than me, but I couldn’t find my uniform. But that’s also why you have on the socks, for like, a bit more covering up.” Ginny chuckled like she didn’t even believe her own words. 

“Well, it’ll be quite the sight for any of my students, that’s for sure,” Hermione joked, knowing full well most of the school would be at the soccer team’s party tonight.

Yet something occurred to her as she busied herself finding the last few pieces of her costume that were laying on the counter. My students… she thought then, a certain blonde coming to mind. She paused, wondering what he would think. He had a bad habit of telling her exactly what was on his mind. Good or bad. She pushed the thought from her mind quickly. Hopefully he just won’t be there.

She retreated back to her room to do her hair, determined to think of the party. She looked in the mirror one last time, reminding herself to have fun before opening the door. Her lips were a soft red that really made the outfit pop. She straightened the tie that matched the blue and bronze embroidered cardigan she carried in her hand. 

With the stress of schoolwork, club meetings, tutoring Ginny, and suspicious encounters with blonde haired boys, she really was looking forward to relaxing this evening. She wanted to drink and make bad choices with her friends. But thoughts of Malfoy wouldn’t leave her mind as she sipped her cup; why do I care so much if he’s going to be there? 

Erin came bustling out of her room within ten minutes and Hermione nearly gasped. She was wearing a full length Egyptian outfit of wispy cloth that draped suggestively around her thin body. Gold bangles rattled as she tried to straighten her headpiece. She made an excellent Cleopatra. Erin whistled at Hermione when she saw her. 

“Eh? What’d I tell ya? You look amazing,” she gushed, finally removing her hands from her crown and coming over to join them. “I want to personally send Sterns a picture, it’d give a visual for his raging fantasies that I’m sure he has about you,” she joked. Ginny’s laugh almost sprayed punch over the counter. 

Hermione laughed at Erin’s inappropriate comment about the professor she almost idolized. She took another sip of her cup before strutting out in the living room. “Maybe I’ll go to his office on Monday like this and he’ll just give me an A,” Hermione chuckled. 

“Ha, that’s gold,” Ginny said seriously. 

“Oh enough about school! Happy Halloween bitches!” Erin whistled as the girls clinked glasses in cheers.

…

Draco leaned on the pool stick in his hand. A golden cuff gleamed in the light on his wrist as he braced his opposite hand on the red velvet of the table. Draco and Theo’s friend Dean were on their second game of billiards and Draco had already won once. 

The air in the soccer house on the second floor was cloudy with smoke and fake fog from a machine in the corner. There was only one light on above the pool table and it was putting everything in a weird glow. 

The soccer house was completely decorated in haunted fashion. There was ghostly fog and a quiet, metronomic bass coming through the speakers. Some jack-o-lanterns littered the shelves, the balconies, and the staircase giving the place an eerily pleasant light. 

Not many people were here yet, the party wouldn’t come to full swing for at least another hour so Draco was passing the time playing pool and drinking. Blaise and Theo were off somewhere, having gone to tour the place upon first arrival. Draco hadn’t seen them since. 

The house was huge like promised, and it would soon be filled to the brim with drunk costumed college kids. Draco would take a tour later. He wasn’t sure where this night would go; they hadn’t made any other plans with the promise of this party being spectacular, but Draco wasn’t sold yet. He finally took aim and slammed a ball into a middle pocket.

A girl giggled from somewhere nearby and he looked up. At a table by the door, the kid he remembered as Chad was seated, two girls on either side of him. The one who had laughed smiled widely before swigging down the shot in her hand. Her friend sat quietly sipping, a set of bunny ears above her long black hair. Her skirt was short and made of black fur. 

Draco raised his eyebrows pleased as he emptied the clear liquor in his cup. He gave a small grimace at the taste it left in his mouth and turned back to the game. Rounding the table once more, he bent his pool stick to its edge. As he aimed, more girls made their way through the room. He heard one of them talking about him but didn’t flinch; he smashed the cue ball into the far corner, shooting the orange 5 into the pocket easily. 

He glanced to the door to watch the girls go, just making eye contact with one on the end. She blushed immediately and hurried her friends along through the door whispering loudly. 

Draco chuckled and watched a cat’s tail and a lot of streamers disappear onto the balcony. He was sure it made sense if he’d have seen the whole costume but all he saw were plenty of tanned legs. He shot again and missed before walking over to the kid called Chad.

“Got any more?” he asked, before looking the black haired girl up and down quite obviously. Chad reached behind him to the floor, grabbing a large bottle of rum. It only had a couple shots left in it. 

“Have the rest just don’t take my soul,” Chad smiled, holding the bottle up like he was offering it as a gift. “How you got stuck with Hades is beyond ironic,” Chad said and Draco let out a chuckle. 

“I’ll take the alcohol over your shitty soul, thank you,” Draco said before turning and taking a swig. He walked back over to the billiards table. 

He didn’t miss the dark haired girl’s eyes follow him though. The bass of the music was becoming heavy and echoed up through the stairs in the same metronomic pace that was sickeningly catchy. The front door opened again several times and he could hear a parade of people coming through.

Draco looked back over to the dark haired girl while Dean took a shot. She was still staring at him and when he smirked at her she blushed much more than she would have had she not just drank a full shot glass of liquor. 

But she blushed nonetheless and Draco was thrilled. These girls are so easy to get going, they really are, he thought, placing the bottle on a shelf. Girls did nothing good for his ego and they were already tempting him tonight. Dressed as a God he would really be in trouble. 

A mirror hung next to the shelf and he caught a glimpse of his reflection as he passed. His practically white hair stood out against the blurred glow of jack-o-lantern pumpkins that littered the rest of the surfaces in the room. 

But the crown of gold bones glimmered with what appeared like real blue flames around his head. He waved a lazy hand over it, appearing like he was straightening it. Under his breath, he muttered the anti-burning charm once again, just to be certain. 

“Just because it’s Halloween doesn’t mean you should be doing magic in public,” a voice whispered in his ear. He almost jumped if he hadn’t seen the glimmer of gold behind him. 

Blaise’s figure came into view, a brilliant white robe tied around him. He also had a crown on his head, but it was made of gold leaves. Two small wings came off each side by his ears. 

“Damn, then I should have dressed up like a wizard,” Draco said in mock disappointment. He watched as more people shuffled into the room to join Chad and the girls at the table. 

“Enjoying yourself otherwise? I saw a girl that looked awfully like Aphrodite, have you seen her?” Blaise mentioned, eying Draco curiously. Rumor had it the women’s soccer team had dressed as the goddesses. 

Draco laughed, “If I had, I’m sure her charm would have drawn me away from this table. Must have actually been Medusa in disguise?” 

“I’d be stoned if it was Medusa, but I see you’ve taken care of that for both of us without any snakes,” he gestured to the ashtray on the side of the table that held the crumpled stub of a large joint. Draco shrugged.

“Wasn’t all him,” Dean said then, coming up to Blaise to shake his hand. It was the first time they’d seen each other tonight. Dean was also wearing a fluffy white sheet around himself. He had a large, golden lightning bolt tied to his belt and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a month.

“Ah, Zeus it’s an honor,” Blaise said, bowing his head slightly as he shook hands. He patted Dean’s shoulder. “Keeping the shitty God in line, eh? On second thought,” Blaise started, “don’t call him that, ‘God.’ It’ll go to his head too quickly.” Blaise took a step away from Draco, whose eyes were narrowed in Blaise’s direction. 

“Nah actually, he’s kicking my ass!” Dean spoke loudly. Draco smiled viciously before turning back to the table and scanning it. He leaned down and took a shot.

“Yes I am kicking your ass, right into the underworld. That’s hell to all of you,” he said, looking around to see them laugh. The last colored ball smacked into the pocket with the end of his words. The eight ball was all that was left. 

“Okay whatever. You’re drinking a God’s worth of my booze though, and aren’t even showing it.” Dean was right; Draco was currently raising the bottle to his lips. 

It was the one from Chad that had only been three or four shots full, but he finished it off with a wolfish grin. He was feeling quite tipsy now, not to mention the addition of the weed, but it wasn’t like it showed. He had years of bluffing with his father to thank for that. 

“Oh come on, this is negligible to the amount you’re going through downstairs right now,” Draco mentioned, as they heard more people stomping inside. He was excited they’d been out as early as they had. He was having a good time for once and the night was only beginning. 

He glanced over at the girl with the bunny ears. She smiled and batted her eyelashes in an innocent sort of way that didn’t match the skimpy outfit she had on. It had been ages since he’d even snogged someone. 

It wasn’t until now he realized he hadn’t relaxed in days. All that researching and stupid arguments with Blaise, he couldn’t wait to be fawned on by girls hardly dressed. So what if they were muggles, he looked at the bunny again. They were at least sexy… 

…

Hermione, Erin, Luna, and Ginny made their way crookedly down the sidewalk. The street lamps gave ample lighting, but they were already tipsy. They laughed all the while, seeing the house come into view for the first time as they rounded the corner. 

It was three stories tall and jack-o-lanterns gleamed across the front porch. More pumpkins lined the walkway where quite a few people were already residing. They held orange cups in their hands and music was coming in eerie waves over the lawn.

Hermione could still taste the pumpkin punch on her lips. It had been so good they had drank both pitchers and now were quite ready to socialize. As she walked, Hermione realized how warm the night was and was glad she left the cardigan behind. She was rolling the sleeves of her white shirt up when Erin spoke. 

“Oh, what do you think the soccer boys are this year?” Erin asked Hermione, as Luna looked at her. “They always do a theme, all of them. Once you know what one is, it’s easier to differentiate them from the rest. Plus, if you tell one his outfit is the best, they’ll give you extra drinks,” she winked at Luna, who laughed. 

“Yeah but then they’ll all be disappointed when Queen Cleopatra doesn’t want their hidden treasures,” Hermione pointed out, and Erin just shrugged. 

“More drinks are more drinks girl!” she laughed, before running up the lane. 

She slowed when she got to the walkway. She straightened up and walked up the steps slowly like she was something famous, much like the queen she was dressed as. As Luna waltzed up behind her they were quite the sight; Egyptian royalty and a sphinx. 

The gold in both their costumes glimmered in the candlelight and a few people looked impressed. Two of the younger soccer players were at the door taking money and handing out cups. One of them stopped and eyed Erin up and down quite obviously.

“You can look but you can’t touch these pyramids boys,” Erin said when she saw them ogling. 

Hermione and Ginny had just made it up the path to see Erin grab a cup from one of the boy’s outstretched hands, and disappear through the doorway. Luna just giggled at the boys and rushed past, taking a cup as well. The boys were left in awe and exchanged excited high fives.

Both boys were wearing togas, complete with wreaths of gold leaves around their heads. A Greek theme, how college of them… Hermione thought to herself upon seeing their ensembles. She had to admit though, the outfits did look pretty hot on them as she eyed their strong leg muscles wrapped up in laced sandals. She smiled when she approached the door.

They looked Ginny and Hermione up and down in the same way they did to Erin, albeit much less enthusiastically. “We’re part of the royal guard, now move,” Ginny said starkly as she shoved past them. 

Her hair flared out behind her as she disappeared into the darkness. Hermione laughed, grabbing two cups and running in after her. The boys were left blinking by the door.

By the time her eyes got adjusted to the light inside, Hermione saw Ginny running to catch up with Erin and Luna. Hermione followed, finding it hard to dodge all the people. There was a huge group dancing in the living room, flashing orange lights whirling on the ceiling. When she finally caught up with the girls, who were in line for punch, she looked around.

The inside of the house was just as grand and loud as Hermione had remembered. She looked around eagerly at the spider webs hanging from the banister and the waves of fog floating down from the second floor. Hermione really had to marvel at some of her classmates’ creativity; there were more interesting costume ideas here than at the store. 

Ginny pulled on her elbow. “Can we go to the bathroom please? I’m dying here and I don’t plan on getting lost in this place with all sorts of dudes lurking in the fog,” Ginny eyed the stairwell uncomfortably. 

“How much have you drank?” Hermione laughed, before gesturing to the stairs. 

Hermione shoved past two boys dressed as cowboys and a group of giggling girls in matching dresses before she reached the top. Ginny gave them each a wicked look as they passed them. 

The bathroom was on the second floor and there wasn’t anyone waiting. Ginny ran right in. Hermione walked over to the sink, eying herself in the mirror and checking her hair as they waited. Erin was busy snooping around in the hall. 

“Erin, have you seen their costumes yet?” Hermione said, still looking at her hair, trying to keep the frizz from appearing. But Erin hadn’t heard; she paused just outside the bathroom, peeking behind a door to a billiards room. 

A curious smile came to her lips as she recognized a certain smokey blonde. The black sheet stretching across his body fell breathtakingly low when he leaned over to take a shot. With a smile she closed the door to the clack of the cue hitting the pool ball. 

…

Finishing his game of pool with Dean, Draco bid him and Blaise farewell for some punch. Before leaving the room, he walked over to the table where the girl with bunny ears still sat. Several other girls were sitting near her and she smiled when he stopped in front of her. 

“You really should watch your gaze,” he said quietly. “Staring at Hades never did anyone any good.” She blushed harshly and looked away. The smile was still on her lips. 

“I don’t know what I’m more interested in, the lightning or the fire,” she mused as he turned to leave, and her words bit at his heels. 

The remark wasn’t much but in his intoxicated state it irritated him. He got to the door and pulled it open harder than he meant to. He didn’t like being in the same playing field as Dean; he needed to be above that. Late nights and alcohol always made that need all the stronger. 

The second Draco reached the hallway, a startled Cleopatra look-alike snapped to attention outside the bathroom door across from him. She smiled upon seeing him like she recognized him and winked. It took only a second until Draco’s eyes were fixed on the image of the brunette in the mirror behind her. 

He could tell it was her by the way she held her chin, so subtly above necessary but it suited her quick wit. Did I just compliment her? He felt his head spin with the alcohol. She was busy toying with her hair. Draco didn’t stop the smirk; it was already on his face. 

She looked amazing, making little faces at herself. Draco was surprised by her, as he looked her up and down both in the mirror and out. Although the latter was more difficult, as Cleopatra was definitely trying to block him. 

She probably wanted to prevent a fight, he scoffed to himself, recognizing her as Granger’s friend. He bent his neck and just saw the edge of her skirt lift as she leaned into the mirror closer. His breathe caught in his throat; fuck. That’s not the same Granger I remember.

Busy contemplating his own desires he almost didn’t notice what she was doing. But suddenly he froze; a small dusting of what appeared to be magic came from her fingertips and moved over her hair as she straightened in the mirror. She was oblivious, assuming she was well hidden from anyone’s view. Her hair was suddenly smooth and she looked at it satisfied. 

Draco’s jaw dropped as Cleopatra yanked on his arm, dragging him down the hall to the next door. It went to the balcony and she practically threw him out there; in his shocked state he didn’t stop her. She winked before shutting the door behind her, rushing back.

“What are you up to now Erin?” Hermione asked suspiciously. She saw a secret playing on Erin’s features. Erin laughed instead and shrugged. 

“Oh nothing. Just waiting for better timing,” Erin said and with that she headed down the hall to the stairs. Hermione eyed her suspiciously.

Ginny and Luna followed Erin and Hermione took one last look in the mirror. That’s one of the most helpful things this whole magic part of me has done! Given me nice hair, she smiled in spite of herself and took off for the stairs. 

…

As the cooler air on the deck hit Draco, he finally gained a little bit of composure back. He took a few slow steps over to the railing, leaning with his head between his arms. She just did… she couldn’t… did she just do magic? 

The thoughts were stark in Draco’s mind; he would recognize that charm anywhere. It was the same one his mother and his aunts used and it was one many witches learned early. At least ones with reputations to uphold, like many of the Slytherin girls. 

But wait. That means she’s not a muggle… she’s not a muggle?! he questioned himself and what he saw. The weed was making his mind work slow. He couldn’t imagine not noticing a small hint, a glimmer, of anything magical from her before. But she had definitely done the spell just now. His heart rate was through the roof as his mind worked out just what it all meant. 

He might have just found the one person in this place he would actually sleep with and it was the know-it-all bitch. Figures, he chuckled at the irony. Getting her in bed with him would be as difficult as trying to get past a Hungarian Horntail. She was magical though and that meant justification in Draco’s eyes. 

She would probably try to fight any advances, but then again, he hadn’t really tried to charm her yet. And when he had been nice once or twice, she had been taken aback. A vicious smile appeared on his face; he loved a challenge. He might just be able to pull this off. 

He suddenly looked up, feeling a lot better that his lust for her was justified; purebloods don’t attract just anyone, right? The thoughts helped ease the small sense of doubt in the back of his mind that what he had seen might not have been magic at all. He ignored this, thinking back to the prospects the end of the night might now bring. 

As Draco blinked in the darkness outside, there was a hint of anticipation growing deep down that he didn’t want to own up to. He had whined to Blaise about trying to get Pansy here so many times and he was just so frustrated with not having sex lately that the idea of a witch so close really got to him.

He stood outside feeling the wind blow, taking a few more breaths to calm down. How have I never met her before this year? Did she go to a different school? Where’d she come from? 

While it didn’t entirely matter where she was from, it was strange another person from their world was here. That was a big deal. And he needed to be sure she wasn’t a spy; they were sons of death eaters in hiding after all. 

That was justification enough to at least go talk to her, right? Probably not, but she a witch and a hot one at that. He couldn’t even deny that to himself as he reached for the doorknob. He couldn’t stand around any longer. He needed a little time to think, the image of her reflection in the mirror never leaving his mind.

… 

Plenty of people were milling about in the living room when the girls came back downstairs. Half of them were dancing while the rest were clustered in chatting circles around the perimeter. A table stretched the length of the back wall, where a handful of girls were dancing.

“I bet you twenty bucks I can get Hermione up there,” Erin laughed, pointing. Ginny snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes as the feeling of pink punch coated her mouth. She felt braver now that they were in the semi-darkness of a million other party-goers, but not that brave. Erin was starting to sway to the music in front of her.

“I won’t, I’ll sprain an ankle!” Hermione said, lifting a heel into the air. She was right, it would be a disaster. Erin kept dancing. 

“Nevermind then, no tables. You have other things to look out for,” Erin smirked, and Hermione raised her eyebrows tentatively. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Hermione questioned. Luna and Ginny weren’t paying attention; they were a few feet away, whispering and laughing as they pointed to the decorations. Hermione just shook her head. 

Erin opened her mouth to speak, but the figure of Blaise appeared, a cup in one hand and a gold caduceus in the other. Hermione blushed upon seeing him, both because of her own surprise and how nice he looked in his bright white toga. He had a gold belt that sparkled on his dark skin and he smiled seeing her. 

“Not the surprise I was gonna tell you about, but that’s pretty damn close,” laughed Erin, before grabbing Ginny and Luna, who hadn’t noticed Blaise's approach. Erin scooted them off to the patio with a wave.

“Hello Hermione,” Blaise spoke with a sweet voice over the music. 

Hermione stood blinking at Erin’s audacity. “Hi Blaise. I hadn’t expected to see you here, but then again since everyone is here it shouldn’t be a surprise-“ and that’s when realization hit. If Blaise was here, Malfoy most certainly was. Fuck. 

If he sees me like this, there’s no stopping his mouth, she immediately concluded, trying to get her mind to focus instead on the conversation with Blaise. She covered up her nervousness with a smile.

Blaise’s lips curled around his cup before answering. “Well I’m always pleased to see you. And my, what a,” he scanned her body obviously, “lovely outfit choice.” 

Clearly, Blaise was making his intentions known as he took a step closer and leaned against the wall. Hermione lowered her eyes. Blaise was charming; except when it involved his git of a friend… She laughed at the irony. Malfoy was everyone’s problem, and that does nothing for his ego I’m sure.

She reminded herself to focus on her appreciation for the boy in front of her and not his best friend. Besides, Blaise was a good catch, maybe they could escalate their friendship. She felt the alcohol in her system. A hook up was sounding pretty nice actually. 

Glancing around, she scanned the room a little for any signs of the blonde lurking nearby. When she came up empty, she returned Blaise’s smile. “So how did you get roped into the whole Greek God thing, huh?”

… 

Draco was too busy thinking about Egypt and magic spells when he practically bumped into Theo at the top of the stairs. Theo looked intoxicated but very happy. 

He clapped Draco on the back. “Aye mate, where have you been? We’ve got that war game to play with Thomas and Shane,” Theo stated. “I told them I’d go find you and we’d be along soon.”

“Ah, I’ve been playing pool,” Draco said curtly, not wanting to get into detail all that was currently on his mind. He wasn’t sure it was the time or place for revealing what he knew. Various levels of alcohol affected abused Slytherins differently and there was no need to provoke, well anything really. 

Instead, Draco looked down at the mass of people below. Theo nudged Draco’s side and pointed far across the room, where a girl was standing on a table. She stomped her large white boots as she danced provocatively. 

A group of boys stood watching and whistling; Theo looked overjoyed at the sight. Draco scanned the room as Theo talked of the beautiful girl dancing. There was no sign of Cleopatra or Granger anywhere nearby. 

The place was significantly packed with bodies and the room was growing hot. Only a few minutes standing there with Theo and Draco felt a sheen of sweat on his back. The windows behind the dancers were foggy. He continued to think about how to approach Granger when he saw her next. 

After a few silent minutes of overwhelming heat, he bent to grab a flask tied up in the back of his sandal. Looking for relief he took a refreshing swig before passing the bottle to Theo. After Theo took a drink from it, he looked back to Draco surprised. 

“You brought Elvish Ice to a party?” he asked, raising a brow. It was technically a medicinal potion for burn victims but that didn’t stop people from selling a different grade of it in Knockturn as booze. It was the opposite of fire whiskey, making your whole body numb instead of full of heat. Draco’s features were still dark and drawn, but he chuckled. 

“Well, you never know when you might need to cool off,” Draco said suavely. “And my other flask had fire whiskey and with this heat I just couldn’t.” 

Theo nodded. “Makes sense. But what about being Lord of the Underworld? Shouldn’t you be all flame and fire?” Theo gestured to his black outfit and crown. 

Draco shrugged. The material fell further down his hip exposing a scar on his waist. He didn’t even notice. He leaned on the railing. 

“Shouldn’t you be looking for a queen to steal down into your Underworld, eh?” Theo nudged him with his elbow. 

“The crown and my attitude are quite enough to convince anyone, don’t you think?” Draco drawled, making fun of himself. 

“Are you sure? Because I think your queen is getting stolen right now actually, but it’s not by you.” Theo used his spear to point and almost fell over the rail. Draco snagged him and pulled him back by the scruff of his toga, placing him firmly next to him again. 

“You are beyond drunk already, aren’t you Theo. And what are you on about besides reciting myths about me that I already know?” He looked around the crowd.

“I’m pretty sure he’s trying to sabotage you,” Theo said, pointing lazily with his hand this time to a far corner of the dancefloor. A girl and a boy were talking and Draco recognized the wings on Blaise’s crown and Granger’s curls. 

At first he was angry; he wouldn’t admit he felt jealousy once again come over him. It was nothing, it couldn’t be. Well, it could because she’s a witch, he thought then. I’m not jealous though, I just want… I don’t know. He tried to relax as he gripped the railing.

He would be wrong in saying that she wasn’t attractive and he didn’t want her. But he told himself it had to be because she was a witch and that was the only reason. He wanted physical release, easy enough and she was it. 

As he looked back down at her, her white shirt was tight under the blue necktie, she looked tempting. Some outfit for a teacher’s assistant, he thought interestedly. He took another swig from the flask in his hand, squeezing his eyes shut.

He felt the last traces of heat leave his body. The liquor was quick to work but another kind of heat found its way slowly to him despite the chill in his throat.

A playful smile found its way to Draco’s lips. “Are you trying to tempt me, Theo?” 

Theo shrugged. “Really, I just like pitting you two against each other, always good for some laughs. Besides, don’t you have a bet or something going, I was just fueling off of that.” 

Draco nodded, contemplating the bet yet again. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy to win, yet here was the perfect opportunity. Knowing she was magical, he wouldn’t have any problem trying to get her home and convincing Blaise he slept with her. Hell, he wanted to sleep with her- 

Whoa, did I just admit that? He looked down at the flask in his hand and it shook slightly. He reminded himself again that she had to be a witch. He swirled the liquor once before drinking, hoping it would relax him and his running thoughts. 

But it wasn’t entirely enough. He saw her long legs wrapped up in knee highs; he sucked in air. Draco didn’t really have to tell Blaise and Theo about her being a witch, at least not yet. He could wait it out until he got his wand back. This could work. It really could. 

Draco turned back to Theo, handing him the flask. “Blaise is in for a real treat tonight,” the smile still smirked across his face. “I’ll catch you around in a bit Theo.” He turned to go down the stairs then. 

“Where you off to?” Theo called.

“I have an assignment I forgot to hand in,” he joked, before disappearing into the mill of people on the dark dance floor.

…

Hermione took another sip of her cup, glancing over Blaise’s shoulder for any sign of Erin, Ginny, or Luna. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said then, keeping control of the conversation. 

Blaise looked at her happily. “My buddy Theo is friends with the soccer team’s captain, Dean. Has boxing with him and we’ve been hanging out with them all year actually. Quite a crazy group. Fun, but crazy,” Blaise explained. 

Hermione found it odd that students she had never seen at the University before would suddenly befriend the team, who was notoriously clique-y. She shrugged her shoulders anyway and she looked his outfit up and down. He did look handsome. He had wings on his laurel.

“Do you know who I am?” he smiled like it was a challenge.

His lack of confidence in her mythology skills didn’t go overlooked. But they should have. She had every intention to detail the history of Hermes to him when she was rudely interrupted by another, familiar voice. 

“A Black Zeus, I doubt people would believe that one, which is why you got stuck with Hermes,” Malfoy’s voice was strong and loud over the sound of the music. He stepped into view behind Hermione, a little closer than she was expecting. The heat and fog in the room mixed and created an eerie looking sight before her. 

Malfoy stood tall, his pale skin almost translucent in the strange light of the room. His toga, which was all black, looked like smoke stretching across his muscles. The way he had tucked it to fit his body was much more revealing than Blaise’s; his chest and the top of his hip stuck out suggestively. 

His arms were completely bare except for two large, shining cuffs on his forearms. A thin metal band sat as a belt on his waist. He had a laurel atop his white blonde fringe. Hermione gasped as she saw it was made of bones instead of leaves. And they appeared to be on fire. 

Now that’s a clever trick… the flames appeared almost real but it was obvious his hair was unburned. He smiled, catching her staring. A slight curve had settled on her lips and she appeared to only just realize. She made her face suddenly unreadable. 

“We can’t all be the actual God we’re impersonating Drake,” Blaise’s voice didn’t contain his annoyance. “And I don’t appreciate the race comment, from you of all people.” 

Hermione looked at Malfoy quizzically, unsure why friends would be so hostile upon meeting up at a party of all places. And did they really have issues with race between them? She found it hard for them to claim to be such good friends if so.

She turned back to Blaise, missing Malfoy’s eyes blatantly wandering her body. “As I was saying,” she tried to ignore Malfoy behind her as she started talking about Hermes. 

Draco raised his eyebrows interestedly as he spotted the ascot on her skirt. When Hermione realized where he had been staring, she clacked the heel of her boot. His head lifted in attention, smirking. 

A rose blush came to her cheeks and she hid it behind stark features. She was determined to not let him get to her, but he walked around so he was in her view again. She sighed, looking into her cup to try and distract herself from his bare chest and that bloody smile. 

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to the God of the Dead,” Malfoy said with a pout. He looked almost cute and Hermione had to mentally curse herself for thinking it. But Blaise was right, Hades was more than fitting for Malfoy. 

“Anyway, for the God of Messages here’s one for you,” Malfoy stated, turning to Blaise. “Our lovely friend Theo is dying to see you and requests your presence upstairs.”

“What does he need me for, I doubt it’s that much of an emergency, we’re at a party for Merl- Pete’s sake,” Blaise was reluctant. He didn’t want to be responsible for ruining her Halloween by leaving her now. And, judging by how Malfoy was eying her, he didn’t want Malfoy to get any ideas either.

“I don’t know but he sounded pretty urgent,” Draco practically sang. Blaise let out a sigh.

“Fine, fine. Play nice you two,” Blaise said, eying Malfoy seriously. “I’ll find you later,” he smiled at Hermione. Malfoy waved him off. 

“I’m going to regret this,” Blaise muttered under his breath, as he shuffled away through several dancers and headed for the stairs. 

Theo was no longer hanging out on the landing and Malfoy watched as Blaise went looking for him, disappearing into the hall. He knew he didn’t have long. 

“And what do we have here? You know, no one likes a teacher’s pet,” he said, his voice changing into husky temptation. Hermione faltered, her mouth dropping open into a small, shocked ‘o’.

Malfoy began to walk around her again, about to leave. He had done what he needed and he knew she’d make an effort to find him again. 

“You probably visit the Underworld quite frequently, so I don’t doubt I’ll see you soon. You can tell me your comeback then since you can’t seem to formulate one on the spot,” he mentioned, laughing. 

She narrowed her eyes, desperately trying to think of something before he left. God, he really is a prat! Always the snide remarks. But luckily for her, her own wit caught up. 

She pushed the images of his muscled features away so they wouldn’t cloud her judgement. “I still have control over your grade, I’d watch it if I were you. You might be Sterns’ favorite, but you’re far from mine,” she stated, standing up straight and crossing her arms.

Malfoy turned around, he was already several feet away from her. He was smirking something dangerous as he spoke, “We both know that can’t be true.” He turned and Hermione watched the white hair disappear into the crowd. 

He took the stairs two at a time before reaching the landing, grabbing a hold of the wall as he disappeared behind it. His head popped back into view to look back; he caught sight of her disbelief and was satisfied, the wicked grin got even bigger. Then he was gone.

Blinking, Hermione chugged the rest of her cup down. She walked away in frustration, not wanting to admit her mind was filled with thoughts of him, both good and bad. She had to find Erin.


	9. Halloween, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's keep doing this~

“Aye Theo, just the man I’m looking for!” Draco called. “You sure got your hands full fast.” Theo turned. The red head was hanging on him but his grin was from ear to ear; it widened further when he spotted Draco by the door. “Yo Drake! Come meet these lovely ladies!” 

Draco approached their table. The whole interaction with Granger happened so fast but his mind was still reeling. Draco had come upstairs to give her some time to cool off. He had really pulled out a dangerous card calling bluff to her insult, but now he only wanted more. 

“We got Hera and Athena straight from Olympus,” Theo gestured, as the girl on his arm played with one of the curls on the back of his neck. The Goddesses across from him wore matching white sheets; one covered barely half of the girl’s large chest while the other’s skirt drifted suggestively up her thigh. 

They were okay looking, but not as gorgeous as the girl who was Aphrodite had been. Draco had eyed her on the stairs and, if Granger wasn’t on his mind, he would have stopped to talk to her. She really was the pretty one of the bunch, they chose that right at least, Draco concluded. 

He nodded over to the girls, who both smiled sheepishly back. “Hello ladies. Might I let you know that while I don’t frequent the great Olympus, the Underworld has its perks,” he curled his lips on the words. The girls smiled, recognizing his character and staring at his chest muscles as he spoke. 

He turned back to Theo, not caring what else the girls did. Theo looked at him, trying to gauge Draco’s good mood. “You’re awfully chipper. I take it Blaise must be pissed off in a corner somewhere?” 

“You know, I’m not sure where he went off to, since he headed upstairs when I told him you were looking for him,” Draco mentioned casually. Theo shook his head.

“Why must you insist on involving me?” he asked, his voice light. “I’m the innocent bystander that just gets to see the hilarity of you two brawling it out over some mug- girl.” 

The people around the table weren’t paying enough attention to Draco and Theo’s conversation so they missed hearing Theo’s slip-up. If the redhead heard, she didn’t care, as she continued to stare longingly at Theo’s features as he talked.

“Oh come on, what fun would it be if I didn’t throw you under the bus as well?” Draco laughed, before he walked away from the table. An old, chipped looking piano sat shoved in the corner. 

Draco walked towards it, but was halted when he heard an “oof” from the floor. He looked down to see his left sandal almost on top of the kid called Patches. The man was lying on the ground, eyes closed. 

When Draco had stepped on him, he looked up blinking until he recognized who it was. He waved a lazy hand and spoke, his words coming out slurred. “Aye, watch out for sleeping Gods,” and he chuckled to himself a little too enthusiastically. 

Draco laughed and looked over at the piano again. “Does anyone play?” he asked seriously. 

Patches snorted, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a glorified coffee table in this house, furniture is few and far between and mostly broken,” he sat up proudly and fell over. At least he rolled onto his side.

“Go on Draco, don’t act like you don’t want to show off,” Theo said. Usually Draco hated when Theo or anyone put him on the spot, especially something as stupid as playing the piano; yes, it could be an admirable skill and he liked it a lot. 

And his father had broken several of his fingers when he found out his mother was giving him lessons. Good times, he recalled sarcastically. He was nine. That’s how he learned the Muffliato charm at least. 

“Hell I didn’t know you had actual likeable traits,” Patches said from the floor. “Go on, here’s some encouragement,” Patches said, holding up a joint. Draco chuckled as he took it, then walked over to the instrument.

“Yeah well, I try not to let too many people see that side of me. I have a reputation to uphold and all,” Draco said, but a hint of seriousness edged into his jovial tone. He lit the joint in his hand. 

His reputation reminded him that he had once seen Granger as a filthy muggle. While he knew she was magical now, it felt slightly strange going after her. She was acting as a muggle and all. He inspected the piano, pumpkins adoring the top. The open door looked littered with cups. 

It was in bad shape but he might be able to play it. He sat, brushing off the keys unsure why he was doing it. He cleared the cups out of the way and placed his fingers to the keys. Soon, the sound of Beethoven drifted eerily into the room. 

The black haired girl with the bunny ears spotted him at the piano and walked over. She approached the armchair closest, smiling as she laid her legs over the arm; they weren’t nearly as long and thick as Granger’s. 

Draco ignored her. She looked away embarrassed, but stayed where she was anyway. Draco relaxed, piano had always been a safe place for him to escape reality despite his father’s aggression towards it. Probably because of his father’s aggression towards it, but whatever. 

This time playing he realized he couldn’t escape reality as his mind wandered back to Granger and the Ravenclaw emblem he was sure he had seen on her skirt. That was curious for sure. And when did she suddenly become an image of attraction in his mind, instead of the shitty little muggle that yelled in his face? 

… 

Out on the patio, Hermione found Erin chatting up a girl dressed as a ballerina. It was much cooler outside and Hermione was happy for the relief from the heat of the dance floor, and possibly Malfoy. 

Erin waved as Hermione approached. “You seem… flustered,” she looked Hermione up and down, a playful smile blooming on her lips. “I left you with Hermes but something tells me you found someone worse.”

“Yeah, the one everyone wants to avoid,” Hermione said, thinking of Malfoy’s black toga. 

Erin chuckled. “Okay, what did Hades do to you, you look murderous. If it’s because of his outfit, let’s be real, you should totally get all over that,” she sipped on her drink. 

“All his outfit proves is that he’s shit at making togas,” Hermione protested weakly, her cheeks reddening far too quickly. 

“You’re definitely lying,” Erin squeezed the girl on her arm and she giggled. Hermione bit her lip; there was no argument against it. Despite the fact she was annoyed, all she could think of was his good looks and the weight of curiosity that wouldn’t leave her alone. She wanted even more to figure him out, now that he had taunted her so temptingly. 

“I see that mind of yours working, you can’t let this go,” Erin smirked.

A wave of adrenaline rose up inside her then, but it was cut short when the realization hit. “Where are Ginny and Luna?” Hermione asked, suddenly knocked back to reality. “Didn’t you take them with you earlier?” She felt bad she had only just noticed their absence. 

“Um, well they were here… I know Luna said something about wanting to explore and I figured if they were together… it’s not that big of a deal, right?” Erin looked apologetic at Hermione, who frowned. 

“Erin, they could get lost in that house, I’m supposed to take care of them. We should go look for them,” she said, pulling Erin by the arm. The ballerina trailed along, holding Erin’s hand.

…

The door to the piano room was already open, but that didn’t stop the boy in the toga from smacking it against the wall anyway. The table of people looked over, all eyes on Blaise as he walked in. His aggression didn’t stem from the empty cup in his hand.

“Well I was supposed to be looking for you Theo, but you seem a bit preoccupied, hm?” Blaise said harshly, approaching the table. The redhead next to him averted her eyes.

“I wasn’t looking for you mate,” Theo said, glancing at the girl. Blaise rolled his eyes before walking over to the piano where Draco was still playing. 

Draco smiled when Blaise reached him. “Oh, I must have misheard. Nice of you to join us again,” Draco said, his voice light against the music. 

“Want a drink? There’s a bottle under the coffee table that I’m sure Patches could get for you. You look like you could use one,” he looked over his shoulder at the boy still laying on the floor. Patches waved when he heard Draco say his name. “You alright still Patch?” 

“Aye, I’m golden Hades. Fucking golden as the gates of Olympus,” Patches shouted. Draco laughed; the girl with the bunny ears eyed Blaise interestedly. 

“Where is she then, Malfoy? Did you yell at her, insult her again?” Blaise seethed, keeping his voice level so others didn’t hear. 

“Oh nothing, I just gave her a little food for thought, she’s fine. Back with Cleopatra I suppose,” Draco mused. He slowed down and took a hand off the piano, adjusting his crown. “Still lit, right?” his voice was proud. 

“You’re a git you know,” Blaise said, turning away from him. He grabbed the bottle from under the table without help from Patches and took a swig before crashing on the couch in frustration. The bunny watched him, amused. 

“Cheer up mate, this night is just beginning. You should be happy I’m making an effort. Maybe I’ll win this bet of yours, I’m changing my ways little by fucking little,” he gave a suggestive smile over his shoulder.

Blaise sat up instantly. “You’re- you’re lying. I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t sleep with a mu- someone like her. Not yet anyway.” Draco raised his eyebrows at Blaise’s slip up. 

When Draco said nothing, Blaise spoke again. “You know I like her quite a lot…” Blaise sounded like he didn’t like saying it out loud, but needed to. 

“That’s really quite touching Blaise, I didn’t peg you as the sensitive type. But you don’t necessarily have to believe me. That wasn’t part of the bet. I just have to prove it,” he pointed out. Blaise looked incredulous. 

Blaise dropped his voice so only Draco could hear. He sounded angry. “You’re saying you’ll put aside your prejudice just so you can have bragging rights?” Draco shrugged.

Blaise looked away at Malfoy’s notorious stubbornness. “So what did you talk with her about, before I cut in I mean,” Draco said casually. Blaise studied Draco’s relaxed demeanor. He appeared so aloof that it was almost convincing.

Blaise didn’t have time to respond however, because only a second later, a girl appeared in the doorway. Her black boots clicked on the wooden floor and Draco glanced over. His smile widened and went back to playing, pretending he didn’t see her. 

He felt the anticipation of the whirlwind that was about to happen. The girl with the bunny ears followed his gaze, inspecting Granger, as she looked around. 

…

Hermione was walking down the second floor hallway, happy that she hadn’t stumbled upon Malfoy at all in her search for her friends. It made the effort she was making actually worth it without his interruptions. And she didn’t quite know what she’d do if she did run into him. 

The last room in the hall held promise, as the door was wide open and light flooded the wood panels on the opposite wall. Melodic piano music floated into the hall and Hermione could hear voices. She didn’t waste any time.

A few people stood around a table in the center of the room and they looked up at her entrance. A boy in a toga looked like he recognized her, but Hermione had no idea who he was. She glanced around, seeing a small sitting area with couches; both were occupied.

Blaise, whose back was to Hermione, didn’t even turn. She noticed him instantly, feeling the guilt of letting Malfoy deceive him so easily earlier. Blaise really had seemed interested. She quickly looked over the heads of the rest of the people in the room. Maybe if Luna and Ginny weren’t here, she could escape without him noticing. 

“Oi, I think you guys have a visitor,” a boy sitting in a toga called. Blaise and Malfoy both turned to look. 

Blaise’s face flushed, but the worry quickly replaced it as he watched the amusement rise on Malfoy’s. Before Blaise could get a word in, Malfoy was already speaking. “I told you you’d find the Underworld easily. Welcome home,” Draco smirked. “You look tense, too many papers to grade?” 

Hermione turned at the sound. She stared as his fingers continued to move over the keys. A set of jagged scars spread across his left hand, almost matching the ivory color underneath them. It practically matched his hair. 

She shifted her features then, trying to give no implication of interest. But her pulse raced with both of them sitting there watching her; she was treading in dangerous waters. She could feel the pressure coming from Blaise’s gaze. The girl dressed as a bunny glared too. 

So when Malfoy threw his chin up at her, she decided. She walked over to the piano, smug. “I know, I know. It’s shocking isn’t it? It is actually me playing, I promise you,” he said, playing a particularly complicated combination of notes. 

She pressed a few keys on the end to throw him off and he stopped short, turning to her. His grey eyes were piercing and Hermione smiled. “I was looking for a siren and sphinx, seen them around anywhere?” she figured she might as well ask. 

Blaise was on his feet, glancing at Malfoy with agitation. “Aye. Anyone seen a mermaid or a gold cat hanging around anywhere?” 

People looked over but no one said anything. The girl with the rabbit ears looked at Hermione viciously. Blaise gave Hermione an apologetic shrug. He looked like he wanted to walk over where they were, but couldn’t decide if it was a bad idea or not. She saw him take a swig of the bottle in his hand. 

“They’re obviously not here, don’t you have some homework to finish?” the bunny girl spoke up. She laughed like a hyena. Even the people at the table looked over in curiosity. She looked at Draco with a seductive smile but he didn’t care to notice. Hermione however, did.

“And what are you supposed to be, the fucking Easter bunny? You two make quite the pair,” Hermione said, gesturing to Malfoy and the girl. 

Malfoy laughed at the insult. Hermione didn’t really believe her own accusation, but she couldn’t believe she was jealous either. The words seemed to tumble out on their own accord. Blaise looked practically ecstatic and looked on with renewed interest. 

“Cat fights are the best,” Theo whispered over Blaise’s shoulder; he had walked over to listen in. His whisper was much too loud.

“Shut it,” Blaise actually whispered. 

“We aren’t a pair by far,” Malfoy laughed again, threateningly. He suddenly stood up, looking Hermione in the eye. He held her gaze for a quick second before turning.

He walked over to Blaise and grabbed the bottle, taking a sip. The bunny looked outraged at Malfoy’s dismissal and walked over to the Greek goddesses instead. They were still over by the table watching the entire scene. The bunny started whispering furiously at them when she reached them; they all stared bitterly at Hermione.

Hermione didn’t care. She turned to leave, thinking of Ginny and Luna. She stopped at the door, looking back. Malfoy eyed her curiously.

She gave him an interested look back. “First books, then piano. Your good side is showing a little too much Hades,” and she glanced at his chest, bare in the light. A scar ran across his ribcage disappearing behind the black fabric. It made him look all the more dangerous. She turned to go, desperately wanting to take a second glance. 

…

Draco could do nothing but admire Granger’s audacity. He liked it and wondered what that sly smile had been about. He didn’t know if it was because he had found out that she was a witch that he suddenly felt so much more comfortable admitting she was attractive or because he actually had been attracted to her all along. He just knew she seemed willing to play along and that was motivation enough.

He sat down on the couch next to Blaise, who eyed him wearily. “You can’t tell me she’s the cause of why you’re in such a good mood.” 

“Oh she is, believe it or not. You talked about her so much and I don’t know, something just makes me want her now,” Draco sounded convincing. 

It seemed as if the whole room got quieter. Blaise blinked in disbelief. Theo cocked his head to the side, his brows knitted. Draco, however, appeared content; he didn’t have to make believe his sincerity was real because it actually was. This was easier than hatching up some wicked plan. And they still looked shocked. 

“But doesn’t she like, hate you?” Theo asked. 

“She complimented me back there, if I’m not mistaken,” Draco said. 

“She kind of insulted you first,” mumbled Theo. Blaise huffed as he stood. 

“I still don’t believe you,” Blaise said, eyes full of irritation. “You still show signs that you’re not ready. You’re bluffing.” Blaise studied Draco’s face as he spoke. Draco kept his eyes neutral to everything, his mouth a line as sharp as his jaw. 

“You don’t have to believe me,” Draco said again, articulating each word. “I’ll prove it soon enough,” his eyes were wicked. If he were faking it, he was doing a damn good job. Blaise couldn’t take it any longer; he headed out the door. 

“Maybe you should go with him, make sure he doesn’t do anything rash?” Draco suggested to Theo. Theo nodded, a little worried. He turned to kiss the redheaded girl before leaving. She lingered a little longer at his ear and he promised her he’d be back. Before he was out the door, Theo called back to Draco.

“What are you going to do in the meantime?” 

Draco smiled. “I’ll figure something out,” he straightened his crown once again. Theo laughed. “Maybe show off some more of my good qualities.” The flames crackled without burning his skin. 

…

“Okay so we’re still missing Luna and Ginny. And I might have just ran into Malfoy and Blaise upstairs,” Hermione explained quickly, finding Erin on the first floor in the kitchen. She remembered the way he looked at her, and a blush touched her cheeks. 

“Wait, what?” Erin said, tearing her eyes away from the door she was about to open. “Spill. Now.” She looked inside the room very fast and shut the door, finding nothing but a closet. 

“Okay so I just saw him upstairs and well, he was playing the piano and that’s just so not what I was expecting to find, well of course I wasn’t, especially it being him and all and-“ she started but Erin interrupted.

“Whoa, slow down! We are still talking about the blonde git, right?” Erin’s eyes wide. 

“Yes, same guy. And this girl dressed as a bunny was there,” Hermione was saying, her voice tinged with jealousy.

Erin smirked. “Let me guess, she was all over him,” she looked at Hermione proudly. 

Hermione tried to shove the jealousy away. “Actually no. But she definitely wanted to be. Too bad for her though, he did not want anything to do with her.” 

“You do realize he didn’t go after her for a reason, right?” Erin said.

“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, guess we’ll never know,” Hermione taunted, deciding to let Erin be mad for once. Erin pouted.

“You’re nasty. Just because I pull shit like that doesn’t mean you can. Now tell me, are you going to go home with him or not?” Erin was quick; Hermione looked suddenly flustered.

She hadn’t thought that far ahead, but now that she had provoked him back there, it was inevitable that he would at least come find her later. Would I consider going home with him, after all the bad stuff he’s said and done to me? She thought then, reminding herself of the seriousness of his hatred earlier this year. She frowned. 

In her silence, Erin spoke again encouragingly. “Okay, but all things aside, you saw his fucking body! That should be reason enough,” A smile came to Hermione’s lips without her even trying. “You don’t have a choice, I’m going to make it happen now,” she started heading for the door as the ballerina girl stepped back inside. She held a cigarette in her thin fingers. 

“So do we still need to find these girls? I mean, I feel bad if they’re on their own, but we haven’t even gotten to dance yet or anything,” the ballerina said, looking longing at Erin. 

She did have a point. Hermione glanced behind her and through the open door, where the living room of dancers still pulsed. The lights gleamed back and forth, flashing against pumpkins on shelves and around the furniture. It all looked so tempting.

“I mean, I don’t like the idea of leaving them but…” Hermione said cautiously. But the girl was right and now, her confidence flaring, Hermione wanted to get out there too. 

Erin couldn’t contain her excitement. She grabbed the ballerina’s hand. “I mean, I would love to get in there, you know me.” 

“Okay, okay,” Hermione gushed then, making the decision. They would make sure to find Ginny and Luna after a few songs. She loosened the necktie that was still against her throat and unbuttoned several of the buttons on her white shirt. It was getting all too hot. 

“Oh yeah?” Erin eyed her outfit adjustments proudly. 

“What? I’m sure the Lord of the Underworld would approve of a little heat,” she said with a grin. Erin howled. Hermione took Erin’s hand and she followed, in shock at the girl in front of her.

… 

Draco watched Theo go, putting his flask to his lips and taking a sip. The cold liquid went down his throat and he felt alive. He walked to the piano and grabbed the half smoked joint still laying on the music stand. He went to the door, putting it behind his ear and headed down the hall. He got to the staircase and looked out into the crowd. 

Sure enough, he spotted Granger and Cleopatra, rushing into the crowd of dancers below. A girl dressed in a tutu followed closely behind them. His breath caught when he saw Granger’s newly improved outfit. He watched her spin around, mesmerized. 

The Ravenclaw emblem on her skirt popped into mind and, while it was potentially problematic, he ignored it for the time being. He was too busy watching her dance. The room’s colors whirled around and Draco was drunk. He couldn’t stay up there any longer; he wanted to go after her. He took a deep breath before strutting down the stairs.

She was in the center with Cleopatra and the ballerina, closely flanked by several groups of girls and boys alike. All were moving along to the beat and talking casually despite the heavy bass. Draco found a path through several people that led straight for her and he took it. 

He was over her shoulder in a minute. He had to refrain from actually reaching out and grabbing her waist, although he definitely wanted to. He felt himself suddenly turned on at being so close. 

“Nice stunt you pulled back there, but we know that Blaise still won’t let you go,” he spoke in her ear and she seemed to pause, like she was deciding if she liked what she heard. Erin watched, waiting in anticipation. 

“And the girl with bunny ears, she’s eying you as we speak,” Hermione offered, turning around to look at him. “Maybe Blaise is the better option,” she shrugged. He was standing close to her and she could see the flames turning color in his hair. They reflected his anger.

Hermione ignored the mystic fire of his crown. The black sheet around him looked tight and she tensed when she saw his hip bone. There was a jagged splotchy looking scar across it and she looked up quickly. What was with all these scars? Her lips pouted in confusion. 

He smirked and grabbed her hand suddenly, pulling her to him. Hermione felt a flood of adrenaline course through their clasped hands. And she forgot all about the scars.

“She’s eying you as well, if I’m observing correctly. Let’s give her something to really look at, shall we?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond; his other hand slid on the bare skin of her lower back and she felt goosebumps raise. 

Her mouth hung open a little in surprise at his actions but she didn’t push him away. Erin blinked in shock, but the ballerina pulled her away. They were easily lost in the crowd. And Hermione was left alone with Malfoy. 

She looked at him, his angled features standing out in the candle flames. He started dancing a type of waltz like they were at some gala instead of a party. She let him lead her, too confused to really fight it.

Seeing her surprise, he laughed. “Just another good quality you can add to my list,” Draco raised his eyebrows. Hermione rolled her eyes. 

Well, he still has that snark, she mused. But it was kind of lovely this way. She’d never had a guy actually know how to dance like this. She gave him a small smile, unsure to trust him.

“It’s still a very short list,” she said coolly, watching him as they moved. His gray eyes swirled with their movements, still holding a level of mystery. She felt his shoulder muscles under her left hand.

Draco felt her fingers move slowly on his shoulder and fought a shiver. Fuck. She had looked attractive from afar but now, up close and flushed from dancing, she was absolutely gorgeous. He let the amusement at her accusation hang on his face. “Now how can you know something like that? I’m the God here, only I know everything.”

“You’re Hades, I’d expect a short list of nice qualities from you,” Hermione said, giving justification. She glanced at Malfoy’s left arm, where the large gold cuff covered the tattoo she knew was lurking underneath. A small bit of ink stuck out at the top near the inside of his elbow, but she still couldn’t tell what it was. 

She gave him a mischievous look. “Scars, hidden tattoos, and an attitude to match. Your own friends made you the God of the Dead and you’re suddenly being cordial. What are you hiding?” she reasoned. Hermione decided that if he was going to be flirtatious, then she would be the complicated one. Besides, the scars were a bit disconcerting. 

Her voice was sultry despite her seriousness. Draco looked back at her, seeing the intrigue in her eyes that was unwavering. Where did that question come from? Did she know who he was?

“Why are you so suddenly interested?” his voice grew dark, deep, questioning. She hesitated and he saw her confidence falter. He fingered the raven on her skirt. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re the one hiding something.” 

Draco studied the unreadable look on her face. He slowed to a stop, still holding her. And in that instant, a flash of magic jumped inside her. She dropped his hand suddenly, took a step back. They stood there, staring at each other. His grey eyes swirled in that unusual way that hid what he truly was thinking. She hated it. 

He sneered, feeling the absence of her next to him. It was almost irritating trying to be nice to her. It was even more irritating that she didn’t just come out and say anything about her skirt or the magic. She stood there, not speaking, practically trembling. 

“Fine,” he found himself saying, suddenly realizing how warm it was getting in the room. He needed to step away, he didn’t want to blow up at her again. That wouldn’t get him any closer to her, that was for sure. And was she trembling because she knew all about his death eater past? 

He couldn’t be sure. He needed some air. He gave her bright cheeks and outfit one last look before he turned on his heel and left.

… 

Hermione took a deep breath, hesitant. She watched the blue of his crown turn dark and red as he pushed through the crowd. He shoved past one last group of girls and was out the front door. She wondered if he was gone for good. 

Part of her really wanted to go after him. Wanted to walk outside and tell him she wasn’t hiding anything and that she was sorry and they could go back to dancing. But it was sort of a lie. She was hiding her magic and there was no talking about that. Even if she had no clue why it had just sparked. 

The other part of her was worried. Going after him was a risk. The magic lingered in her fingertips. It was almost daring her to choose the risk. She looked around the room one last time for any sign of Erin, Ginny, or Luna. When she didn’t see them, she headed for the door. 

… 

Draco stood on the porch letting the resonating heat dissipate. He stood in the corner, his hands on the railing. He pulled the joint from out behind his ear and let it burn on his crown before placing it in his mouth. He took a long drag letting the smoke rake through his thoughts.

Did she know who he was? Did she care about his past if she did? He didn’t like that she was looking for secrets. Maybe it was nothing; maybe it was a red flag. She could have just been flirting. Or she could know everything about him. 

Yet he didn’t recognize her from the Ravenclaws in his grade or others, for that matter. And he couldn’t picture her at any Quidditch game or Halloween Feast. Maybe she wasn’t actually who she was dressed as; maybe she was an exchange student from Beauxbattons who had a friend or cousin in Hogwarts? How did she get the uniform? It bothered him not knowing. 

He took a deep breath of the fresh air, catching a glimpse of several boys in suits walking out the door. He was reminded of her uniform when he saw their ties; it made him want to mess around with that necktie of hers. Fuck. 

He took another hit from the joint and let the smoke cloud billow out slowly from his lips. A few girls on the other side of the porch watched him. He glanced over to see two girls dressed as cats and a girl dressed as a storm cloud and was disappointed. 

Most girls he got with were fairly superficial. Sure, they were attractive but usually not someone he wanted to have a conversation with. But she was far from that. She actually provoked so much more from him and he couldn’t understand it. Her ability to get under his skin enhanced her good looks and it was driving him crazy.

His head was swimming. Her wicked smile came to the surface, but it hadn’t looked like one with ulterior knowledge. Maybe he was overreacting; wouldn’t someone from their world who knew who he was speak up? He was in hiding and reported missing by the Daily Prophet after all… 

She hadn’t even called the tattoo by its proper name- maybe she really didn’t know who he was. The anxiety started to ease. He recalled the feel of her bare skin on his hand. How she had complimented him and Blaise’s frown. The worried thoughts began to fade. 

Draco didn’t hear the door open. Hermione peeked out, holding her breath steady. She spotted him on the far side of the deck. She was relieved that he hadn’t left completely. 

She watched him shift his weight and his legs looked strong, like he spent a lot of time on his feet. She spent a minute just taking in his figure before she shook her head. She had to focus. She felt embarrassed that she had so abruptly stopped them dancing; apparently her flirting needed a little tweaking. For someone so hot and cold, she should have known better. 

She took a step towards him and the floorboard under her heel creaked. He heard it and turned, locking eyes with her, uniform and all. He blinked to take in the sight. She walked slowly forward, determined. She was flushed from the sheer heat inside the house and the cool air of the porch was making her cheeks pink. 

The way she moved towards him made him stare. Draco leaned his back against the railing unable to stop the smile from approaching his lips. He coughed on the smoke, forgetting his troubling thoughts all together even though she had been the cause of them. She frowned when she saw the joint in his hand.

“You shouldn’t smoke, it’ll fucking kill you,” she said matter of factly, choosing to stand with considerable space between them. She took in the fresh air as she looked out over the front lawn. 

Two kids were playing around with firecrackers and another two were looking at pumpkins, practically falling over each other. She smiled at them, the alcohol pumping through her system, keeping her more at ease that she thought she could be.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said, blowing a puff of smoke right towards her. Of all the things that could possibly kill him, and he could think of plenty within the walls of his own home, he doubted smoking pot would do it. 

Hermione smelled the marijuana in his breath and rolled her eyes; maybe that’s why he was in such a chipper mood. She just looked at him quizzically. He seemed to have forgotten his temper because a smile played on his lips before he spoke.

“You’re remarkable really,” Draco laughed, watching her. “You study me as if I’m a book you can read in an afternoon.” 

“Was that a compliment I heard? You’re full of surprises tonight,” Hermione laughed. She looked out over the lawn again, avoiding those lovely grey eyes. She could feel them lingering on her. 

Draco couldn’t look away; he didn’t know why she had come back, but he liked that she had. She stood, one of her hips cocked to the side. She looked defensive, but that, and her proximity, only turned him on.

Maybe I’m not the only one that can sway emotions, Hermione thought smiling. “You are by far the most interesting book I’ve tried to read in a long time.” 

“‘Tried’ is correct. It would take ages to read me thoroughly, I’m a special edition.” he said, before his voice lowered. It was suddenly rough and entrancing. “But you’re persistent, you’ll keep trying, won’t you?” 

Hermione stared at him, intrigued. He stared back, blowing smoke around them. She could just see his grey eyes through it, pulling her in. 

“I’m still looking for my Persephone. How do you fancy the Underworld will treat you?”

Hermione felt her face get hot; she knew exactly who Persephone was, Queen of the Underworld and she knew how Persephone had acquired such a title. Even in her intoxicated state she hadn’t truly expected it from him, but now his intentions were real. She thought maybe he was playing around, especially after it seemed he was only doing all this to piss off Blaise. 

But now, he seemed very serious. And she wasn’t sure she would stop him from turning his intentions into reality. He looked amazing and his words, while dangerous, still left her wanting more. 

She stared back at him, trying to read the expression lingering in his eyes. She watched him lift an arm over his head and stretch. His muscles moved eloquently for how subconsciously he had done the action but it was enough. 

In a second she closed the gap between them and Draco’s breath caught in his throat. Up close, he could smell her perfume and it made him a little dizzy. He watched her dip her head to the side and for a second he thought she was going to kiss him but she brought her mouth to his ear. 

She made her voice soft. “Since when did you think you could convince me to go home with you?” It was threatening, but there was a hint of temptation in her voice that she hoped he couldn’t resist. He exhaled a cool breath and it smelled of booze and smoke.

“Technically Hades kidnapped Persephone,” he said calmly, looking sideways to analyze her face. He could see her sinfully pouting. “But I imagine you’d oppose to that.” 

“However, I play by my own rules. When I want something, I usually get it. I’m not opposed to stealing in the slightest.” His smirk only grew. He waited for her to respond.

“A Plus for the storyline... but a C for character development,” she said, moving within inches from his lips. She felt her pulse quicken. 

He frowned. “Now that’s no fair, I didn’t know we were being graded, professor.” Draco couldn’t control himself. Knowing it would drive her wild, he acted on their closeness. 

“Maybe,” he said slowly and quietly, “I’ll earn myself some extra credit.” As she was about to say something he pulled the loose necktie around her throat, bringing her lips directly to his. He could feel her smiling as he kissed her.

Malfoy’s hands slid around her so fast Hermione almost flinched if it weren’t for the way he grabbed her lower back and pulled her close. Draco continued to kiss her, his tongue finding its way into her mouth. She obliged and slowly moved hers over his lower lip, making him shudder. 

Months since he had any physical contact, Draco was now quite aware of her chest pressed against his. He hadn’t realized how much she turned him on. As they leaned against the railing on the porch, he was in a frenzy. He turned his head to kiss her neck and caught sight of black lace peeking out from her unbuttoned shirt.

Hermione felt the fabric of his costume shift between them and let out a sigh into his ear. Draco’s knees almost buckled. His mind couldn’t come up with any other thoughts besides how good she felt, but he tried to focus. He wanted the opportunity to tease her a bit more before actually letting her have him. 

Draco broke away from her suddenly, smirking widely. Hermione stood, taking a second to catch her breath. As surprised as she was with how passionate his kisses had been, she was even more surprised by his retreat. She pouted in frustration. 

She brought a finger across her swollen lips and Draco had to look away before he jumped to snog her again. He tried to keep a level head as he remembered he wanted to keep her guessing. He turned and walked toward the door.

She took one step but hesitated; did he not like what she had to offer now? Because she was about to go crazy on him if that was true. More than arrogance, she hated getting led on, and now he was doing both. Her irritation came back. 

He was reaching for the door when she spoke, her words holding more bite to them than she had anticipated. “Why am I not surprised?” 

A sly smile crept onto his lips that were still wet from hers. He turned to her, his eyes fierce. “Oh, don’t get your knickers in a ruffle Granger, at least not unless I’m the one doing it. I’ll be back or, if your willpower gives, you’ll find me.” Her jaw dropped open in outrage.

“I need another drink and I promised Theo a game. Besides, you need time to change my grade. That should suffice as some extra credit, right?” he winked before vanishing. 

…

Hermione stood as if she had been slapped in the face. Without him so close to her, she shivered; from the cold or what just happened, she couldn’t be sure. He thinks he’s hilarious, Hermione thought viciously. A small voice in the back of her head reminded her that she had laughed and she closed her eyes trying to rethink everything.

She recalled the events that had just occurred and had to slow down and review them again. Malfoy had kissed me and- she thought about it again. Oh my God, Malfoy did more than just kiss me. He full on snogged! 

It was definitely worth it as she remembered his hands roaming her body. His image was still stuck at the front of her mind. She didn’t have to have anyone tell her or see it in a mirror; she knew her cheeks must be red.

She took a deep breath, still staring at the door where he had left. Would he really find her later? His comment about her knickers surely said so and her blush reddened further; she felt the heat rising through her body. She was back through the door before she knew it, a tinge of magic on her fingertips. Hades was nowhere in sight. 

…

“Is that- ?” Theo was trying to ask, too in shock by how much Draco’s good mood was showing on his features. He looked like his old, pompous self and was overly cheery as he entered the kitchen. 

A small smear of reddish lipstick hung on his lower lip and Theo stared at it. “You- you snogged her. You actually snogged her!” Theo stumbled to get the words out. “Oh, Blaise is seriously going to lose it, Merlin this gets better and better!” 

Draco could only laugh, too impressed with himself to explain. He wiped his thumb across his bottom lip, looking at the reddish tint left on it. Her lips had tasted amazing. 

He hadn’t really had any idea where he was going; he had only left to run her curiosity ragged. He liked the idea that she would come to him because she just couldn’t stay away and he made sure that she would do just that. Judging by her response, she definitely would. He just had to be patient. 

He jumped up to sit on the counter, Theo watching his every move. Theo had an arm draped around the redheaded girl from earlier and it appeared she was holding his hand. Draco thought of her hands on the back of his neck and faked a yawn to hide his smile. Theo noticed.

“Oh come off it. What’d you say to her? What’d you do to her?” he chided, knowing Draco wouldn’t be able to resist bragging. Theo lowered his voice. “You look like you just won the World Cup or something.” 

“Oh Theo, you know I don’t kiss and tell,” he scolded, looking around. There were several men from the soccer team scattered around. Draco spotted half a bottle of rum nearby and reached for it. 

Theo gave an incredulous cough, but Draco ignored him. Draco smiled, his crown a brilliant orange sunset in the gloom of the room. “So I snogged her, what’s it to you?” he said casually. 

He wasn’t about to go into detail, but then he remembered Theo still believed she was a muggle. The shock on Theo’s face now made sense and Draco laughed even more. “Okay, okay. I just, you know, riled her up a bit. She loved it, much like Pansy’s inability to resist any word I say to her.” 

Theo chuckled as he shook his head. “Where is she now?” 

“Oh, probably on her way to find me I suppose,” Draco mused, leaning to see past the stairs to the front door. He couldn’t make anything out and was kind of disappointed. 

Theo looked like he was not sure if he truly believed him, but shook his head still interested. Draco sipped at the bottle in his hand, acutely aware of how much he seemed to crave her now that she was gone. Seeing her as a muggle for so long and the fact she was still playing the part, it was a little unsettling when he stopped and thought about it. He decided to distract himself. 

“Aye, have you seen Blaise anywhere lately?” Draco said.

“He said he needed to cool off,” Theo said, and pointed up. “Third floor balcony. He went up there after we played that game with Dean, so I wouldn’t worry. We lost so we drank quite a lot. He seemed… better.” 

“Ah good, he’s no fun when he’s too sober,” Draco laughed, making Theo chuckle. Blaise had always been a little uptight, but he was still their friend. Draco was still willing to die for the kid despite stealing the girl out from under him. Draco hopped off the counter and headed towards the patio.

“Now where are you off to?” Theo noticed his friend’s eagerness. “On your way back to her I presume?”

“Nonsense,” Draco said too quickly; Theo snickered. Draco smacked his arm.

“So if I see her, direct her towards the gates of hell, got it,” Theo laughed and Draco disappeared. 

…

Hermione was moving fairly quickly through the crowd; her thoughts spun around as much as the people in the room. The table in the corner still had dancing girls on it and Hermione giggled when she saw Erin. Her friend was standing above a crowd, moved dangerously close to the ballerina girl as they danced. People watched, envious. 

She stood up on tip toe to wave, hoping to catch Erin’s eye. Erin gave an obnoxious hand wave, winking and smiling when she saw Hermione on the edge of the crowd. She turned back to the ballerina when Hermione heard the icy voice at her ear.

“And why aren’t you up there with them, hm? Now that would be one hell of a show,” Blaise was significantly drunker than when Hermione had first seen him tonight. When she turned, he was swaying slightly and he held a suspicious smile. 

She frowned, put off by his snide words; normally Blaise was really sweet. She’d never heard him sneer quite like Malfoy. “I don’t get up there because it gives guys like you too much satisfaction,” she stated, and she watched as his eyebrows went halfway up his forehead. He rolled his eyes. 

“So what? Aren’t I worth it? Much better than the rest of the Gods by far,” he gave a dazzling smile and on any other occasion it might have worked. But instead, Hermione snorted at the circumstances of her time recently spent in his best friend’s arms. 

“You two talk so alike it’s insane,” she stated between laughs; rude but with just enough charm to be enticing. It was much more becoming of Malfoy than Blaise, even if it was such a horrible trait. Whether she felt that way because it was true or because of their snogging, she wasn’t sure. 

Blaise still looked eager and he reached out to touch her shoulder, but it didn’t do anything for her. She gave him an apologetic smile as she shied away slightly; he caught the hint. He looked away, annoyed with both her words and her actions. 

“Well our fathers are very close, old school mates,” he began. “That made us friends by default, brothers practically, the way we were raised.” he said. His features held a tinge of sadness underneath, like the memories were not all good. Hermione wondered why, a slight chill finding its way down her spine.

“And we were raised to a different standard than most,” his voice was steady but low now. “Whether that’s good or bad, I’ll let you be the judge.”

It was Hermione’s turn to look away; she felt uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had turned. What does Blaise mean, a different standard? She thought quickly. Do I even want to know that answer? 

She didn’t have time to think any further though, because a hand found its way around her waist and pulled her. She froze, feeling a tickle on her neck as someone caressed their nose against it. 

She blinked quickly and realized it was Malfoy, before he turned her towards him so he could kiss her. It was quick but fierce and Hermione blushed sharply when he let her go. Blaise stared, livid and disbelieving.

Malfoy was laughing, his arm still around her. “Now Blaise, don’t make me look bad when I’ve been so nice all night,” he said. Malfoy looked down at her again and pulled on her tie. 

Hermione was taken aback, but her body had practically melted upon feeling Malfoy’s touch again. Blaise’s warning hung in her mind, biting. She was intelligent enough and a good judge of character to heed it. But she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something different about Malfoy and she couldn’t stop now. 

The man who had once been the bane of her anger now seemed to draw her in like a flame. She wanted to know him, every inch of him, even if that meant some danger. She turned into Malfoy’s shoulder to avoid Blaise’s glare. 

Blaise looked like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find his voice. Malfoy waited, seeing if he would. A mix of anger and proudness struggled to show on Blaise’s face. Malfoy finally broke the silence. 

“I knew you’d be speechless, but I told you, there’s just something about this one,” Malfoy gripped her hip and she sucked in air before cursing herself; she didn’t like him referring to her as ‘this one.’ 

It was undermining and there was no way she’d let him believe he had so much of an upper hand. She pouted. She’d get back at him for that later; his smile looked like he wanted her to. 

Blaise couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He looked pissed and then uncomfortable and then annoyed. He didn’t know what to do and, on the verge of exploding any second, he wanted to bolt. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. 

“I tried to warn you, don’t say I didn’t. He’s by far the worst of us,” was all Blaise could muster before he turned to leave. Blaise took one last look at Malfoy and pushed past him, running into Draco’s shoulder much harder than necessary. Then he was gone. 

...

“Was that really necessary, I already felt awful,” Hermione whined, looking back to where Blaise had disappeared. “He was right you know. You are the worst and I haven’t even met that other one you’re always with.”

Malfoy laughed, kissing her neck. Her thoughts about Blaise started to melt away. “Oh yes, Blaise wouldn’t lie about that. And neither would I. But you see the thing is,” he mused, “I doubt you need to care about my past when the present is so much more enticing.”

He went to her mouth, this time deepening the kiss so it held much more intensity. Hermione, taken by surprise once again, fell into his arms easily. His hands crept down, getting under the ruffle of her skirt. She tensed before pulling away just enough to speak. 

“So you’re staying true to your word,” she murmured, referring to his joke about her knickers. He didn’t seem to remember at first and he paused, looking confused. Hermione loved the sight. She laughed before she felt him yank on her panties, pulling them around so it made her squirm. He snickered. 

She decided to take advantage of his relaxed demeanor and started kissing his neck. She heard him choke before the sounds of laughter were replaced with a moan. Her hands were around his neck and she pulled on a lock of hair. His hands continued to move on her ass as they snogged. 

When they pulled apart after a few minutes, Hermione looked at him with a sense of desire that didn’t go unnoticed. Instead of acknowledging it however, he bent back to her neck. 

“Just don’t forget,” he mused, pausing to bite her a little. The smallest moan came out of her lips and Malfoy loved the sound. He didn’t continue speaking, he just let her moan resonate in his ears, his lips hovering over her throat. He wanted to know what that moan would sound like at full volume. 

“Don’t forget what?” she asked, breathless. Malfoy chuckled against her skin. He pulled away before he went any further, looking at her. His pupils were dilated and the gray just rimmed the outside in a softer way than she’d ever seen. She stared back curiously, fighting a smile. 

“Don’t forget that Blaise’s room is right across from mine. I intend to make you moan louder than that,” he said quietly, waiting for her response. Hermione licked her lips. 

“I’d like to see you try,” she mused and she felt his fingers on her waist. One of his hands moved towards her ribcage, his thumb catching a little under her bra. 

In seconds, Malfoy let go of her. He gave her one last kiss before taking her hand. She followed him to the front door. Hermione didn’t know where they were going, but they were leaving. She watched as he pulled it open to the fresh air and noticed the purplish bruise on his neck that matched the flames on his crown. She couldn’t wipe the smirk off her face as they walked out into the night.


	10. A Night With A Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a romp with a certain slytherin and finds out much more than she wanted to...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for so much time between chapters, I've really been busy with work and my other fic has taken off. It's been tough to keep up with both. Hopefully this chapter is enjoyable :)

Hermione stared at the large townhouse, whose steps they were now ascending. It looked a little too extravagant for students; there were nicely kept rose bushes in a garden around the front walk that were somehow still in bloom. The stairs looked like swirling marble and the front door was flanked on either side by two ornate, obsidian peacocks. It was ridiculous. 

She couldn’t focus on the outside long though because Malfoy pulled on her arm. She was up the steps and through the door in no time; she didn’t even see him get out the key and un-turn the lock. 

When she looked around, she was in a dark corridor that opened up to a vast living room. There was an enormous, elegant couch with a wooden coffee table in front of it; a magnificent fireplace roared in the pit beyond. A staircase went up arching and disappearing to the back of the house. Behind the couch stood a desk and across from it was a grand piano. Hermione snickered when she spotted it.

The room was green, reflecting the Slytherin common room, not that Hermione knew what that was. It made Draco feel at least a little bit more at home. This house had been one of several that Draco’s father mindlessly purchased to stay in when he traveled for work for the Ministry or for the Dark Lord. 

He had easily broken his father’s wards so it couldn’t be traced, but Draco wondered if they’d even checked; they had hundreds of houses and apartments that Draco could have chosen to hide in. They’d never realize. He walked up behind her without her realizing, holding a flask in one hand.

They had been trading it back and forth the whole walk home, when he had taken it out for a quick pick me up and she saw the fire in his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to care that it was fire whiskey, but she’d seemed to never have heard of it before. Strange, he thought, for a witch. 

But he pushed the thought from his mind as he pulled her close. Draco kissed her feverishly before she pulled away, the side of her mouth curved up. His sharp jaw line looked like marble in the light of the fire. She walked over to the desk in the corner and hopped up onto it, leaning back to encourage him to follow.

Draco stared. He had to admit, in that outfit and with the desk and all, he forgot any qualms he had about her. He set the flask down on the table too hard. He walked slowly towards her, filled with anticipation. 

He put his hands on her thighs and they wandered steadily upwards. Her mind raced. He yanked her towards him and she could feel her hips tremble. The alcohol was making things ten times easier, as she mindlessly reached her arms up around his neck. 

He ruffled her skirt once more and Hermione wrapped her legs around him. He eyed her with those steel gray eyes. Before he could lean in for another kiss however, the sound of someone struggling with the lock on the door made them jump. They both turned. 

“Curse these fucking muggles, no wonder they get caught doing stupid shit in the streets or don’t even make it fucking home! Can’t get a bloody door open,” Theo was ranting. 

He finally managed to get the key out of the door and looked up, noticing he wasn’t alone. Theo blinked at the sight in front of him. Hermione tried to hide her laughter, silently thankful that it wasn’t Blaise.

“You seem to be in one piece,” Draco managed, hands still on Hermione’s thighs. Theo just smirked. 

Hermione watched the boy stagger a few paces before pausing to speak. “That I am,” he started, “didn’t know we were having an after party.” He tilted his head at Hermione before crashing onto the couch and grabbing the forgotten flask off the table. Draco looked smug. 

“We aren’t. Us on the other hand,” Draco stated, “I’ll try to keep the noise to a minimum.” Theo’s smile faded to a grimace. 

Draco let go of his grip on her and instead grabbed for her hand. He pulled her off the desk and headed for the stairs. She could feel the eagerness in his pull. She gave a dazzling smile to the boy still on the couch. 

Theo followed her with his eyes and they could hear him laughing the whole way up the staircase. They reached the top and headed for the last door at the back of the house. She didn’t hear him flick on the lights or a switch for the fireplace, but both sprang to life when they entered. 

Hermione looked around and was not surprised with what she saw. His room was large enough to be three separate rooms. An ornate rug lay under a magnificent four-poster bed. A dark emerald bedspread was draped over it and a polished wooden desk stood by the windows. A plush white sofa sat in front of the fireplace, flanked on either side by bookshelves. It was something out of a fairy tale and she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or indulge herself. She wanted to do both. 

Hermione didn’t snap back to life until she felt Malfoy grabbing her hand and pulling her to the bed. They didn’t pay attention as they fell onto it and Hermione lay on top of him. She could feel the heat coming off his exposed skin. He held her face in his hands as he began to cover her mouth insatiably with kisses. She followed suit, forgetting the room and the house and the insults and the boy downstairs passed out drunk. 

Because now, Malfoy’s hands roamed down to her chest, sliding between the fabric of her shirt to grab the black lace. The toga around him loosened and Hermione caught a glimpse of all the scars. She could just see a small trail of fair hair that disappeared down. 

Hermione grazed her hand down his hips and felt him tense. His eyes flashed before they shuttered and closed. He sat for several seconds just taking in the feeling. When his eyes finally did open, she took a chance and bit at his neck. 

Her hands fumbled in his hair, forgetting about the crown of flames. As it tumbled from his head she tried to pull her hand away but wasn’t quick enough; the flames licked her skin and she jolted. Expecting pain she closed her eyes, but there wasn’t any. When she looked again, there was no burn in sight. 

She blinked at the oddity, the crown still alight on the ground. But his lips went from her jaw down her neck, feeling the pulse under her skin and she forgot to care about the flames or the crown. 

Draco quickly flipped her, his toga coming completely loose. He reached under her skirt, his fingers thrusting aside her panties to reach her. He slid a finger inside, feeling her grow wet under his touch. He pumped his hand faster and a ripple went through her body. She let out a moan and he laughed hearing what he could do to her. 

She reached down to touch him again and his jaw tightened. She watched his head hang back for a minute before he was under her skirt again, pushing his way into her. She welcomed him eagerly. She couldn’t stop the short scream emitted from her throat as he gave a quick thrust.

He paused only a moment and, seeing her smirk had been replaced with a look of hunger, he quickened the pace. His movements grew fast and aggressive. He could hear her breathing hitch. Hermione could feel her muscles tighten as he pulled her leg up, sinking him deeper inside. A low growl escaped his lips. 

And then Draco’s hands were roaming, because he hadn’t been able to do this in ages. His fingers found her chest and he teased her nipple between his finger and thumb. Draco watched as Hermione’s eyes shut and her whole body twitched. 

She was on the verge of exploding when she felt Malfoy slow down. Her eyes flashed open to Malfoy’s face coming closer and he was at her ear. Hermione struggled to keep her face straight with the agonizingly slow movements that were making her tremble. 

“So you lied that first night,” he whispered in her ear. Hermione looked at him with what she hoped was a neutral look; a slight shake was in her breath but she tried to play it off. 

“Pardon?” She wasn’t used to having conversations during sex, especially not while she was still doing it. He continued to push slowly in and out as he looked at her smiling, looking like he was perfectly at ease. 

“You claimed my ego was compensating for something, but now I have very obviously proved you wrong,” he taunted, shoving himself hard against her between each word. Hermione practically laughed as her head lolled back against the pillows. 

He picked the pace back up and she let a tempting smile fall onto her ruby lips. “I guess I was. But, you were still a fucking prick,” she said. She turned and sucked on his collar bone until it turned purple and his breathing grew heavier still.

“And now, you’re fucking my prick. We’re even,” he stated, his voice thick.

“Not quite even,” she purred as she tilted her hips and he sunk in further, almost moaning. She was starting to feel almost dizzy herself and it was an effort to keep her breathing even. She wanted to push him further and she thought she could do it. Her voice was heavy with want. “Don’t you know what I can do to you?” 

Draco’s mind went even foggier as her words reached him. Her voice was sultry as it wound its way into his ears and the tightness of her was throwing him overboard. She widened her legs and he heard her almost laugh in his ear at how great it felt, going deeper and deeper. 

He stopped smiling when he felt her twitch around him; it started quick and her hips rolled in time with him. Draco couldn’t remember sex ever feeling this good and he felt himself grow harder by the second. She moaned and the pitch of her voice sent a shiver straight down his spine. He was ready to explode. 

All she could feel was the constant pumping into her, deep inside, and soon there was nothing else. She began to scream but it turned into a moan as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her. Her breathing became erratic and she moaned between catching air. She felt Malfoy, shoved hard inside her, pulsing as his whole body convulsed with hers.

They laid there, breathing heavy as they finally parted. Draco lay back, looking at the ceiling spin in a drunken blur. A real, satisfied smile came to his lips; it had been the first time in ages and he turned back to look at the source of his good mood. 

There, bare and unashamed, she stared at the ceiling as well. He watched as she seemed to count her breaths, like she was taking her own pulse in the silence. Then she giggled before she lazily pulled the sheet over her, turning away from him. He gave her a curious look.

“B plus, nice work,” she said sleepily. Her mind was still rushing around full of alcohol and orgasms and parties and blondes with tattoos. It was making her tired. She sighed happily at the luxurious sheets. 

“Oh shut it, that was certainly A material,” he stated, already getting sleepy himself. He got closer to her and kissed her cheek. Draco paused after doing so, realizing he’d never kissed a first time hook-up before. Not intimately like that. He tensed, seeing her relax.

He sighed, telling himself to relax too, it was just the alcohol and the rush of intercourse still fresh in his mind. Had to be. He waved his arm around the room to dim the lights and in the darkness he could feel his eyes closing before he even fully settled down next to her. He draped an arm absentmindedly over her as he drifted off to sleep.

Hermione began to drift off, feeling the weight of his arm coming around her. She looked down to see the tattoo was hidden but she could just barely recall seeing a forked tongue over the top of the gold cuff before her mind went blank to sleep. 

…

The sun was just starting to peek through the balcony door when Hermione blinked awake. Light streamed in from the open curtains of the balcony doors but couldn’t bear to open her eyes fully. Besides the lingering taste of fire on her tongue she could only taste a dry chalkiness that woke her up more than the sun. It was a nasty combination and she felt disgustingly dehydrated. She stifled a yawn with her hand and kept her eyes shut. 

It took her several minutes before she braved to open her eyes. Her head ached and the room seemed to spin. It was large as she looked around, trying to piece together what she remembered. She could just make out a small sitting room and a desk in the corner that didn’t look like hers at all. She was suddenly annoyed at the extravagance of it all. She paid no attention to the body resting next to her. 

Draco was on his stomach but he stirred when he felt someone move next to him. One of his arms grazed her back and he could feel the chill run down her spine. He stretched a little before settling back down; his eyes were shut, not wanting to sacrifice any of his sleep hours to the early morning light or even the girl next to him.

When Hermione chanced a look at him, she saw Malfoy’s face relaxed for the first time. It surprised her and she now knew why she let herself crawl into bed with him. When he wasn’t sneering he was actually quite handsome. And manipulative. With his casual backhanded compliments and all the alcohol, she fell easily into his trap. 

She frowned as if she wanted to forget what had happened so late last night between the same sheets now clutched in her cold fingers. Fuck. A headache oozed its way over her eyes and she cursed. 

She coughed again and rubbed her throat. It was hurting from the feeling of the fiery liquor he’d given her and she desperately needed water. She glanced back over to Malfoy, wondering if he was a morning person. She highly doubted it and smiled as she poked him. 

Draco groaned. “Water,” he thought he heard from a scratchy voice behind him. 

Hermione’s voice cracked as she mustered up the ability to say the word out loud. She closed her eyes because the room was starting to spin again. If she could just get some water she’d fall back asleep to at least calm her hangover down some. Unfortunately, it was the better option to trying to sneak out without vomiting or falling over from dizziness. 

Malfoy stayed silent and unmoving and Hermione grew impatient. Useless. Just like in class. She was starting to wonder what had been so terribly attractive about him last night. 

She guessed it wouldn’t be difficult to locate a faucet, but Blaise’s warning popped up in her mind. She even considered for a split second trying to summon water herself, but it was too risky given her location. She spoke up a little louder, trying to sound convincing instead. She gave him another shove, harder this time and he made a sound. It took a minute before she felt him shift next to her. 

“You are demanding,” she thought she heard him snidely mumble. It was the same drawling tone he always gave but it held much less punch. He reached over her and she turned to see what he was doing. He pointed a finger at the glass and spun it to the left; it filled with clear water sparkling in the light. Hermione blinked and the color in her face drained.

…

Malfoy’s arm fell across her back and she could feel his hand on her waist. She figured he must be dreaming or Malfoy really was that tired and hungover because he didn’t seem like the cuddling type. Despite how docile he looked in bed, she felt suddenly, oddly uncomfortable lying next to him. She stared at the glass. 

She blinked at the water, sparkling in the sunlight. She figured she must be dreaming too; she couldn’t comprehend how it could be possible for the glass to fill itself at the wave of his hand. Well, she could think of a way, but… But that wasn’t logical. There was no way she had finally found magic. Not here, with him. 

She wanted to freak out. She wanted to run away and hide because she was scared. She had never actually had confirmation that there were other magical people and now she had that confirmation lying right beside her. 

Hermione glanced at him again. His face was turned away and she could still hear his breathing. It was steady. Hermione almost laughed, still hoping, begging that she was dreaming. Because when she thought about it, there was something in the way he acted the first few times they talked. The slip ups, the crown that didn’t burn her, the scars. 

She reached out a hand to pick up the glass from the table. She trembled slightly, she didn’t want to chance waking him. But she had to know. She closed her eyes and put the glass to her lips. When she drank, she felt the hydration flooding her body and it quickly stalled her worried thoughts. She gulped half the glass, feeling it invigorate her system. 

She took a minute to catch her breath. Her mind ran wild with everything that had just happened. Hermione tried to move, but the hand around her waist tightened and pulled her back towards the bed. She figured it was the same sleepy movement from earlier but suddenly, his hand tightened more than she expected in a kind of painful way that made her wince.

When she turned to look at him, Malfoy’s once calm face was now pale and sharp. He lay still completely asleep, but it was evident his disposition had changed. Hermione palled. He wasn’t dreaming, he was having a nightmare. And it was getting worse. 

…

Draco twitched in his sleep. Another bad dream, this time a memory. Draco had snuck off to escape the chaos of a “meeting” that was going on downstairs in the Manor Dining Room. It was another call to arms to calculate numbers for their side and Draco was in no way interested in seeing who they’d “convinced.” A bottle of scotch made with pixie wing seemed much more appealing of a way to waste his night. 

After two hours, the noise in the house died down and he managed to sneak out to the gardens. Despite how boring he found Herbology, there was something about walking the gardens in the Manor that made him feel better. He could get lost in the gardens, it was a way to escape. 

He turned a corner once he had gotten beyond the gates and approached a trimmed hedgerow. He felt cold and drunk and in the shadows of one of the Manor’s many pieces of art stood a hooded figure. It spoke and the voice sent shivers down Draco’s spine, even in sleep. 

Draco couldn’t see his face but he didn’t have to; his father’s voice felt sharp to his ears. “No meeting for you, well I am surprised,” Lucius said quietly. “I thought you were going to finally prove to me you’re worth something.”

Draco shivered as a frost spread quickly across the hedges beside him. The empty feeling of sadness washed over the entire garden and Draco knew there must be a Dementor loose. A pack of them were being kept on the far side of the grounds and sometimes Aunt Bella let one out to watch it perform the kiss on blood traitors they’d captured. She was by far the worst relative in existence. Along with his dad. If he hadn’t drank half the scotch bottle he wouldn’t have responded. But, given the circumstances there was no way he wouldn’t try to fight back. 

“Must have slipped my mind,” Draco said nonchalantly, lingering near the corner where there was a way out. He let his wand slip down his sleeve and into his hand, twirling it obviously. His father eyed it before walking right up to him. 

“Difficult to miss when it’s in your own bloody dining room,” Lucius raised a hand. Because of the scotch, Draco didn’t have the coordination or reflexes to dodge despite having his wand; the slap made Draco stumble a little. 

When he gained his balance back, he blinked in the moonlight. Blood rushed to his cheek, stinging in the night air. Oh Dad, always wearing such wonderful family heirlooms. He caught sight of the metal ring on Lucius’s hand as he twisted it, a satisfied smile on his father’s lips.

Lucius’s grey eyes, so similar to the ones Draco looked at in a mirror, gleamed viciously in the light. The combination of the slap and the smile made Draco want to punch him in the mouth. His father’s long silver hair was in a ponytail on his shoulder and Draco suddenly wondered how mad he would be if he cut it off in his sleep. 

“You need to watch your hands,” Draco said instead, trying to sound threatening. But his voice fell short as his head spun with the mix of alcohol and being struck. He put his hand to his temple, rubbing it to ease the pain. “Who gives a shit if I missed a fucking meeting?” he asked. He watched his dad take a few steps away from him before he turned back. The tension mixed poorly with the late hour, heavy and dark. 

“You know very well your intended placement within our ranks, you’d do well to mind it correctly,” the voice sounded just like his, only hardened and older, as if it were made of lead.

“Make me,” Draco managed to say and his whole body was on fire, one that started inside his mind. It itched and prickled and cracked at his skull and he hated the feeling. It was overwhelmingly intense.

“I intend to do just that if I have to,” his dad’s voice felt painful and bitter and real. And it was in his thoughts that he heard it. He struggled to fight the Imperius now taking over his every muscle. The more he fought, the less control he had and he looked his father in the eyes before losing all control. Lucius was smiling. 

… 

The pain of Draco’s nails practically digging into her side moments ago had seemed so real, she had sworn he’d broken skin or bruised her. She blinked in the bright sun that streaked in from the window and followed it to where it fell directly on the blonde next to her. The sight was more than alarming.

Malfoy mumbled aggressive remarks and Hermione noticed his eyes remained closed as he scowled. Fear of his past crept back to her mind. Blaise really had warned me last night, at least, he had tried… she thought of the blurry night and the magic and of a bad boy she wasn’t sure she should have gotten involved with.

Hermione looked over his firm muscles and he turned over again practically punching the air. He flinched and she shifted herself to the edge of the bed; she didn’t want to get in the way of whatever it was that was going on in his mind. 

Last night had been awful fun, but she couldn’t shake the fact that sleeping with him now felt so wrong. The reality of him being magical was quickly taking over her mind and her heart fluttered. Why would he just do magic right in front of someone?

She slid her legs out and scooted off, standing on the dark wood floors in the sunlight. It wasn’t until the sheet dropped from around her that she realized she was still naked. Her thoughts bubbled up quickly as she tried to gather her clothes as quietly as possible. She found her skirt, shirt, panties, and socks strewn across the floor all the way to the door. 

More and more she was finding irritation at her own actions and she walked around as quietly as she could. Magic, magic, magic, fuck! She took one last look around, scooping up her boots and carrying them so they would make no sound. Her tie was still missing, but she heard Malfoy snarl and dressed quickly. She was too scared to linger and hurried out the door as fast and quiet as she could.

Her heart raced as she descended the stairs. The boy who had been on the couch was nowhere to be seen and Hermione slipped out the large front doors without notice. When she felt the cold morning air bite her cheeks she ran down the lane and out of sight. When she was finally around the corner and a few blocks down she slowed to a stop, catching her breath. Her thoughts were as strangled as her breathing, What the hell am I going to do? 

…

Draco sat upright, his body feeling sore and aching of magic. He was suddenly awake. He was breathing heavily and once he finally realized it had all been a dream he fell back onto the pillows in relief. He sighed, rubbing his head.

When he finally felt relaxed enough to get up, his body still ached and he felt almost vulnerable. Imperius does that to people or so I was told... or so I remember, he tried to shrug it off but even in his own thoughts he could hear the spite he felt. He pulled on a sweater he found on the floor and grabbed the glass off the nightstand before he went to the open balcony door. Midafternoon sun streamed in illuminating every step. 

When he stepped onto the balcony he felt the real cold autumn air for the first time. It smelled of soaked rain and wet vegetation and he took it in in deep breaths. In only briefs and the sweater it was very cold and his head felt fuzzy. He set the glass down and leaned over the rail, his stomach churning.

A table and chair sat outside where half a joint lay disregarded in a silver ashtray. He took it up and with a wave of his hand it was lit. He watched the puffs swirl in with the sunlight and hoped it would calm his stomach. He recalled the memory from his nightmare with caution. It was a particularly stressful time at the Manor and drinking behind his father’s back was probably a terrible idea. That was the first time Lucius used the Imperius curse on him.

It stood out now so clear because he worried sometimes, even now, if he’d feel that familiar notion of invasion. He would reveal their hiding place and screw everything over. He’d worked hard to become very skilled at Occlumency but it was still disconcerting. It was a scary warning stuck in a memory and this was the second nightmare he’d had in a week. It was a bad sign. 

He looked as the smoke swirled around the glass before he saw the red stain of lipstick on the edge, pressed in a gentle outline. He picked it up and looked at it before looking back in his room. A black sheet wrapped around the base of one of the posters on his bed and on another, a ravenclaw tie. He smirked. Granger. 

He had wanted something to get his mind off the nightmare and his thoughts mixed with the remembrance of liquor and sex. His hair whipped across his face. Granger had practically melted at his touch. She had fucked with him and then fucked him and it had been phenomenal, Draco couldn’t lie. He had expected her to be all over him in the morning and was fully anticipating a good, long morning shag. And yet, he was alone.

A sharp knock on the door brought Draco back to reality and he turned to see Blaise walking toward him. He was dressed like he’d already been up for several hours and he sighed when he saw the bruises littering Draco’s neck. Blaise leaned against the rail and Draco waited for the lecture.

The anticipation grew too much and, when Blaise didn’t say anything, Draco took it upon himself to do so. Besides, he did want to brag. “So... how was the rest of your night?” Draco said it casually but Blaise recognized the sarcasm in his voice. Blaise punched him in the arm. “What? I was being sincere!” 

“Yeah well, I wish I would have actually gotten to sleep but alas, someone was loud,” Blaise said, the agitation twitching his mouth. 

“Ah, that is rather unfortunate,” was all Draco supplied back, and he looked back at the trees, taking a drag. He didn’t sound apologetic and his face looked indifferent. He was trying to hide his concern with his nightmares. Talking about Granger seemed the better option. 

“Yeah, so maybe next time you can fucking do a proper Muffliato, you arse,” Blaise said and he sounded strained; he was reluctantly holding Draco’s wand out for him to take back.

“Well I’ll be sure to do so next time,” Draco mused, taking the hawthorn wand. He smiled at it before heading back inside. He walked to the sitting area where the coffee table had a fresh coffee pot ready to serve; a small potion vial that looked effervescent sat beside the overturned mug. Blaise followed Draco, shaking his head. 

“And, uh, will there be a next time, I seem to be having trouble with the fact she isn’t still here,” Blaise mentioned, still looking around and trying to gauge the scene of the trampled bed and the tie. When he registered the colors and what they meant, his jaw tightened.

He moved quickly over to the bed and grabbed the tie, holding it up for Draco to see. “Uh, what’s this?” 

“What’s what?” Draco drawled, not looking over. It wasn’t until he actually looked did his hand tighten around the cup, almost cracking it. The tie. He looked quickly away from it, as if that would prevent it from existing. He couldn’t decide if he should laugh or stay serious; he wanted to laugh. Blaise looked livid. 

“You bloody know what. Is this her tie Draco?” Blaise got closer, holding it up. Draco felt Blaise’s stare and it was unwavering. It bore into Draco’s downcast gaze and he grew annoyed with being found out so quickly. 

“Is this Granger’s tie Draco?” Blaise’s voice was sharper and Draco twitched. 

The words were difficult to form in his mouth. “You know it is,” Draco managed, trying to keep his voice steady.

Blaise looked furious. “Are you fucking kidding me Draco? Why wouldn’t you tell us the minute you knew? Didn’t it set off a warning to you? She could be a spy for all we know! A witch in the same bloody uni we’re hiding in!” 

Draco sat very still, unable to think of a clear answer. He sighed heavily instead of answering because the truth was worse; he had ignored the warning signs for the most primordial reason. And that was pretty low, even for him. 

Blaise walked over to him still shaking his head. “What if she jumped you once you got her alone in your room? Merlin did you even remember you had a brain last night.” Blaise rubbed his forehead. He didn’t speak for a few moments, as if he were trying to figure out what to do. Draco sat, not moving, his coffee cup suspended in air as the steam swirled over his face.

“Okay, so maybe I should have thought of that,” Draco stated, unhappily. “But when she had her hand around my cock I wasn’t going to argue.” The bluntness of his statement left Blaise even angrier. Blaise threw the tie at Draco’s feet.

“You’re sick you know. We could be in danger and all you can think about is a bloody shag!” The exasperation in Blaise’s voice was obvious as he finally sat down.

“Oh please,” Draco started. “She was all over me, she had plenty of opportunities to use magic against me and she never did. Some spy, you really think it’s that much to worry over? Probably a Beauxbatons girl who got a uniform when she was there for the TriWizard Tournament or someone’s cousin getting laundry mixed up. She’d have no clue who we are to turn us in.” 

It actually could be a plausible explanation and Blaise wanted to believe him. Draco sounded very convincing. “Did you see the raven on her skirt by chance? Or was it just the tie?” Blaise wasn’t sure why it mattered.

“Yes it was the complete uniform,” Draco confirmed. “But come on, we didn’t know her before this year here at this muggle place,” Draco reminded and Blaise shook his head in agreement as he thought about this information.

“Yes but having another magical person here where we’re hiding is dangerous. We’re going to have to find out who she is. We have to find out how much she knows about us or the war or anything really,” Blaise said. “We need to know whose side she’s on.” The statement sounded harsh and both boys cringed.

“Well she was definitely on mine last night,” Draco said without thinking. Blaise merely did an obvious sweep of the room yet again for Draco’s amusement before giving him a look to prompt him to answer truthfully. 

“Yet she left in quite the hurry,” Blaise said. Draco scowled before replying.

“Fine. Scared her off didn’t I? Guess she’s not into death eaters,” his words were defensive. He remembered the nightmare and how it probably made for his bad company.

“Scared her how? I swear, if your time spent in death eater training camp somehow translates into your sex life, I don’t want to know what kind of weird shit she fled from,” Blaise sounded angry and uncomfortable.

“No you shit,” snarled Draco, “I just…”

“Draco,” Blaise sounded like a parent confronting a child who didn’t want to tell the truth. “What happened, did she see your mark or something? She might not know what it means, we could obliviate her if it’s that, Merlin we don’t want her blabbing that off to anyone-”

Draco cut him off. “It was a nightmare,” he sighed, hating the vulnerability. Blaise’s expression was cold.

“When did you start having them again, eh? You failed to mention that,” he started before sighing himself. Blaise sat forward, looking for a cup. When he didn’t find one, Draco tapped a knuckle on the arm of his chair and one magically appeared. Blaise filled it with coffee and took a large gulp before looking at Draco for an answer.

“Not something I like to share. There’s something very unsettling about feeling unforgiveables from your past like their real as day,” Draco’s voice had grown very low.

“True,” Blaise glared, “but you’re no shit at Occlumency. You were supposed to be keeping it up, we’re in hiding remember? With this little slip up with a witch in our vicinity now would be the time to put lessons into practice.” 

“Hard to do without a wand,” Draco said. “I’m only so good wandless and you know it. Occlumency takes far too much magic to do without some help. So I’m keeping this even if the bet says otherwise.” 

Blaise leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and rubbed his temples. “Look, I don’t fucking care about the bet anymore. I couldn’t really believe you’d give up all your shit pureblood prejudice that easily. You fucking suck,” he paused letting the insult sink in.

“Anyway, I don’t care. Theo should be here. I’m going to make him practice Occlumency with you again. I’m tired of this shit and he’s better at it than me,” he said, trying to figure out what to do from here. “It’s not good you know, you having nightmares again. Never is a good sign,” Blaise shook his head. 

“Hey, it’s not like I bloody asked for them,” Draco said, feeling the dark mark under his skin. When he winced, Blaise caught it out of the corner of his eye. He narrowed his eyes to Draco, who looked up from his forearm. “I’m. Fine,” Draco said between his teeth. 

“To hell you are!” Blaise raised his voice. “You find a witch and suddenly all the dark signs are back around you,” Blaise got up and walked to the door. “Come on, I can’t think in here. Let’s get food, go downstairs. We need to talk about this,” he said as he disappeared out the door.

Draco scowled at the mug in his hand. He didn’t want to talk about it but he figured Blaise wouldn’t drop it even if he tried. He set the mug down to put on trousers before replacing his wand in the pocket. He saw the small vial still sitting on the tray. He grabbed it and drank it down, feeling relief from the headache and nausea of his hangover. He sighed, wondering how this next conversation was going to go.

… 

Draco walked slowly into the kitchen, where Theo was lounging in a chair at the table. It was tilted back on one leg, as if he’d enchanted it to stay. When Draco entered, he smiled. A disgruntled looking Blaise didn’t look up from the stove. He was trying to turn on the gas but it appeared not to light or that he didn’t really know how to light it. Draco sneered, not bothering to help and took a seat at the table across from Theo. 

“Why do you even bother to do it the muggle way when there’s a set of kitchen spells specifically designed for this house?” Draco asked.

“Well since I’m not a Malfoy I don’t know the weird secrets of all your properties,” Blaise said. “Please enlighten us.” 

The snarky comment did not go unnoticed by Draco. He glared but waved a hand in a complicated pattern; ingredients from the refrigerator began to zoom over to the counter and unpack themselves. When Blaise finally had the flame of the stove up and running, a bowl of batter for pancakes was already made and a tray of bacon was ready to be cooked. 

Theo blinked at the spell work and looked back to Draco. “Fucking weirdo,” he said shaking his head, impressed.

“You have the most interesting repertoire of spells, I don’t understand how they ever will replace you now that you’ve left your spot in the death eater ranks vacant,” Blaise said sharply. The sarcasm made Draco cringe.

“I know, I might single handedly stop this whole war,” Draco joked, but an eeriness fell over the room that he hadn’t intended. It probably wasn’t a good idea to pretend you could be the savior. The silence was broken when Blaise interjected.

“Alright, we need to address the hippogriff in the room,” Blaise stated. He looked serious and he took a deep breath before continuing. “She’s a witch. What the hell are we going to do?” 

“You already told him?” Draco looked incredulous; he hadn’t expected Blaise to just dive in.

“Obviously! This is important Draco, there’s going to be a war most likely and the last thing we need is a spy or bait for someone to find us! What part of we can’t be found don’t you understand?” Blaise sounded desperate, like this had all been quite obvious to him when he found out. Draco had a leering scowl on his face and he crossed his arms defensively. 

“Don’t you think she had plenty of opportunity last night to, I don’t know, harm me or curse me or something? In case you forgot, she was beyond preoccupied with fucking me. I don’t think we need to worry so much,” Draco’s voice was harsh and he looked to Blaise for a reply. 

“For the last time, I don’t fucking care you fucked her. Get over yourself mate, we have a bigger issue on our hands,” Blaise didn’t bother looking over as he finally began cooking. 

“Alright, calm the fuck down, both of you,” Theo said, stopping their bantering. “No need for fighting now. We actually do need to figure something out. While she might have enjoyed a round or two in bed with you Draco, we can’t confirm whose side she’s on,” Theo explained. Draco closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. 

“How did you figure out she was magical?” Theo asked. Draco was quiet before he opened his eyes, sighing.

“She did a hair smoothing spell outside the bathroom, anyone could have seen. She was pretty careless really,” Draco told them. 

“Careless? Oh come on, I saw you do magic too,” Blaise reminded him. “What about her wand? What did it look like, maybe we can go off of that,” Blaise asked, now seeing an opportunity for identification.

“If she had one I never saw it, she appears to be more clever than we thought,” Draco said without thinking. It just made sense that she had to be quite the well-taught witch to be so skilled without a wand. Draco was so good at wandless magic because he was taught so young. Being in a long standing aristocratic family has its weird traditions. At least it had come in handy for sheer convenience around the dormitories and for discrepancy. 

Blaise’s voice brought Draco back to the present. He looked over. “That’s not good. She is probably fairly well trained. You have to be to master that old skill,” Blaise said, eying Draco as if testing him to try and brag. Draco decided it best to keep his mouth shut. 

Theo looked frustrated. “So, we have no idea where she came from or what she’s doing here, and she’s crazy smart,” Theo said. “That’s just great. That’s going to be plenty helpful.” He appeared annoyed. 

Draco gave a quiet smirk and Theo looked at him. “Except her uniform,” he said. Theo gave a puzzled look but Blaise obviously remembered and he rolled his eyes. “I think green and silver would have looked better on her than blue and bronze.” 

Theo looked like he wanted to laugh when he comprehended Draco’s statement. “You’ve got to be joking! Ravenclaw colors? That’s just too fucking coincidental isn’t it? Hogwarts, of all places.” 

“Exactly!” Blaise said, exasperation in his voice. “If she’s a spy or something she could have stolen robes to make us trust her, I don’t know. What if she works for the Order? For our parents’ side?”

“Although,” Theo cut in, “couldn’t she have borrowed the robes? From like, a cousin or something? Maybe she goes to a different school.” 

“That’s what I suggested. But she’s enrolled in this Uni and completely comprehends the material. She had to have been in one of Sterns’ classes last year to be his TA,” Draco said. “Which means she’s been in muggle schooling for years now.” 

“Don’t find that too often anymore do you,” Theo said after he swallowed a large gulp of coffee. “Seems you might have bagged yourself a half-blood mate.” 

Draco narrowed his eyes sharply. “What do you mean?” he asked, his brow knitting together. Blaise looked equally as confused.

“Half-bloods are statistically more likely to achieve degrees in both the magical and muggle world. If you were a muggle parent and you found out your kid had the capabilities of being part of a completely different world, you probably still want them to learn your way of things. Her mum probably wanted her to go and she ended up doing both. Definitely could be,” he stated. Draco looked suddenly pissed.

“A half-blood, aye? Well you achieved the bet partly then Draco,” Blaise laughed, but when he saw Draco’s face he stopped. “What’s this? A little resentful are we? Too close to actual muggle for your liking?” Blaise’s taunts were rather jovial, but he knew the dangers he could inflict with them. 

“I’m sure I’ve shagged a half-blood at Hogwarts. That girl from Beauxbattons definitely was. The blonde back in fourth year,” Draco argued but Blaise just laughed. 

“Wasn’t she half Veela?” Blaise questioned, looking smug. “I don’t think that counts you know.”

“Fuck off Blaise,” Draco managed, but he looked away obviously still angry. “I’m sure there was someone, I’m not that much of a pureblood elitist. She was attractive, that’s all that mattered.” 

“Fine, that’s actually good to hear,” Blaise said, looking smug at Draco’s indifference. “But you still didn’t complete the bet. Technically I should have that wand back,” Draco looked suddenly defensive. “but maybe you should keep it, You’ll need it to practice. We need to be on guard now.” 

Draco knew Blaise meant well but he hated how he had to be practically taken care of. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable. He put his head on his arms, wondering when he had decided that half-bloods were fair game. It hadn’t been something he had considered last night, when he’d had his hand up her skirt and his tongue in her mouth. Not at all. An unsettling feeling curled its way into his mind as Blaise continued cooking. Theo just looked smug.


End file.
